He Streamed My Fifth Abortion For Her Chapter 06

He Streamed My Fifth Abortion For Her Chapter 06

Vivian regained consciousness to find Damien sitting beside her hospital bed.

She blinked, still groggy from the anesthesia.

Instinctively, she reached for her stomach.

Then her entire body froze.

A long surgical incision stretched across her abdomen.

“Damien…”

Her voice quivered as she looked up at him.

“What is this?”

He didn’t answer.

His eyes were bloodshot, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Vivian kept running trembling fingers over the incision.

Her face drained from pale to gray.

“My stomach… Why is there a scar? Why was I on an operating table?”

Her panic escalated.

“Damien! Answer me!”

He opened his mouth.

The words barely escaped his throat.

“Vivian… your uterus…”

“What about it?”

“…it’s gone.”

Silence filled the room.

Three long seconds.

Then Vivian let out a scream so shrill it sounded like glass shattering.

“What did you just say?! Who authorized that surgery?! Who gave permission?!”

Damien silently handed her the tablet.

The surgical consent form was still displayed.

She snatched it away.

Then she saw the signature.

Her signature.

Every stroke unmistakably hers.

“I never signed this! I never did!”

She threw the tablet onto the bed.

“It was Clara! She forged my signature! Damien, call the police! Sue her!”

Damien closed his eyes.

His voice was barely audible.

“The handwriting was examined.”

“It matches yours.”

Vivian’s entire body shook.

Then something suddenly clicked.

Her face turned ghostly white.

“That day…”

“The day she came to see me…”

“She handed me a stack of paperwork. She said it was some mediation agreement so we could all move on

peacefully…”

Her voice caught.

She remembered.

After Clara walked away in the parking garage, someone wearing hospital scrubs approached her car.

The employee handed her a folder through the open window.

They had smiled politely.

[“Mr. Sterling asked us to have you sign your discharge paperwork.”]

She hadn’t questioned it.

Just like Damien.

She flipped to the last page…

And signed without reading a word.

Vivian stared at him.

Her lips trembled.

“You both signed?”

“You signed it too?”

Damien met her gaze.

“I thought it was Clara’s surgical consent form.”

Vivian froze.

For several seconds, she simply stared at him.

Then realization shattered across her face.

“So… you were planning to remove her uterus?”

“You forced her through four abortions, and that still wasn’t enough?”

“You were going to make sure she’d never have another child?”

Damien said nothing.

Vivian looked at him.

Then she laughed.

It sounded far worse than crying.

“Damien…”

“You’re insane.”

“And so am I.”

She leaned back against the pillow.

Silent tears streamed down her cheeks.

“For three years… I helped you destroy four of her babies.”

“I thought I hated her enough.”

“But in the end…”

“The final knife…”

“It came back and stabbed me instead.”

Damien clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked.

“I’ll find her.”

“Our baby is still inside her.”

“She couldn’t have gotten far.”

“I’ll bring her back and make her explain everything.”

“Explain what?” Vivian cut him off coldly.

“Explain that you intended to remove your own wife’s uterus?”

“Explain that you signed a surgical consent form without even reading it?”

She looked at him with exhausted contempt.

“Damien, if you go after her now, all she has to do is upload those recordings and the signed consent forms.”

“How many years do you think you’ll spend in prison?”

Damien stood there, completely speechless.

As though nailed to the floor.

Vivian slowly closed her eyes.

When she spoke again, her voice was quiet.

Empty.

Utterly exhausted.

“Don’t look for her.”

“Even if you find her…”

“What changes?”

“She won.”

Outside the room, Caleb leaned silently against the wall.

He had heard every word.

He lowered his eyes to his phone.

The last text Clara had sent him three hours earlier still glowed on the screen.

[Caleb, thank you for everything you’ve done for me over the past three years. You don’t have to help me anymore.]

He slipped the phone back into his pocket.

Then he turned and walked away.

At the end of the corridor, warm morning sunlight poured through the windows.

For the first time in a very long time…

My future belonged to me alone.