Love, Lies, And Hidden Truths

The only sound in the dimly lit hospital room was the heart monitor's constant beep; the air was thick with the antiseptic smell of disinfectant. 

The bright daylight was fading into thick darkness, and Jeri's dreams were becoming increasingly blurry with each passing second, as she lay on the hospital bed, her pale face twisted in agony. 

Her abdomen ached, her insides feeling like they were being torn apart. Perhaps this would be her last day on Earth. Who knows?

“No…please.” grappling the sheets tightly, Jeri cursed amidst the torment as tears continued welling down her eyes and soaked the bed.

She tried to call for help, but her voice was thin and barely audible. 

“You're finally getting what you deserve.”

A chilly expression graced the face of Jeri's stepmother, who was sitting in a chair next to the bed. She made no attempt to assist the 21-year-old pale pregnant woman who was in anguish.

Well, she can't be blamed because her barren life never permitted her to experience such a thing, even though she wanted to. She had no idea how painful it was when a pregnant woman was on the verge of giving birth. 

While the woman sat quietly, glaring at Jeri, a slim, tall lady suddenly entered the room with a stern expression like that of Jeri's stepmom, and walked up to where the two women were positioned. 

“Mom, do not tell me you have been here for hours just to look after this b*tch!” Jeri's stepsister, Aysel, who was adopted by her stepmother to alleviate her barren existence, entered the room, her eyes flashing with anger. 

“Do I appear concerned about her condition, huh?” Margaret, Jeri's stepmother, smirked and pressed on. “I'm only here to witness her death; nothing else. She's been a thorn in our side for far too long. It's time she paid the price.”

“If not an idiot, who will be pregnant and have no idea who impregnated her?” Aysel yelled, grimacing at Jeri.

“My only wish is that this b*tch does not survive the surgery. She had been a threat to my entire life,” the 19-year-old Aysel continued without minding Jeri's presence. 

“Obviously,” her mother replied, nodding. 

Ever since Jeri's flamboyant stepmother, Margaret, wed her father, Jeri's life has been filled with misery.

At the age of three, her parents went through a divorce. When that happened, her cunning stepmother seized an enormous opportunity to remarry her father. 

Based on her quick decision to remarry him, it was obvious that Margaret had been hoping for the couple's divorce so she could claim the widower.

Little Jeri started to wonder about her mother's abrupt disappearance as time went on, but her father was always able to make her forget about her mother.

Upon reaching adulthood, she tried to find out the reason for her mother's divorce, but her father claimed it was a secret he would rather keep from anyone, including her.

She did everything she could to find her mother and persuade her to return to her husband, but it was all futile.

Jeri was forced to accept reality and hope to meet her mother by chance one day.

In contrast, her stepmother was barren, and as a result, she accused Jeri of being a witch and the source of her infertility. 

Margaret's hatred for Jeri grew stronger after being confirmed that she would remain barren forever.

To ease her barren existence, she eventually adopted a girl child. And that was the genesis of Jeri's distress when the child was adopted.

“You may try to break me, but I won't let you. I'll survive this, and I'll thrive. Your cruelty only makes me stronger. I'll rise above your hate and shine brighter than your darkness.” Jeri's voice was weak but steady, her gaze locked on Aysel with a defiant spark. 

Both Margaret and Aysel snorted in disgust. 

“You've always been the center of attention, haven't you? Well, not anymore.” 

Aysel glared at Jeri, her finger jabbing accusingly.” Those who frequently cross my path are either playboys who come to take advantage of me and leave, or they come from a low-income background. 

“Tell me, Jeri, why shouldn't I hate you when you get all the attention from rich men while I get none? Am I not worthy of being loved by a wealthy man like you? Or are you prettier than I am, huh?”

As tears streamed down her eyes, Jeri fired back,“ How is that supposed to be my fault, Aysel?”

"It is not relevant whether you are to blame or not. All I pray for right now is your death, nothing else,” she snapped with a deadly glare.

Jeri was nothing more than a maid to her stepmother, a punching bag, and a toy for her stepsister. 

Given how dangerous it was to be out on the streets, Jeri could not imagine fleeing her home. 

Everything became worse the day Jeri found out she was pregnant. Sadly, she had no idea who had gotten her pregnant, nor did she remember having any extramarital affairs with any man.

Jeri was not a prostitute, as they claimed after finding out that she was pregnant, and had no clue who impregnated her. 

She was well aware that someone had set her up, which resulted in her current situation. But who was that person? That was what she couldn't tell even though she was suspecting her stepmom and stepsister who also appeared surprised when they heard that she was pregnant. 

Jeri was slowly dying in agony at the hospital as her cruel stepsister and mother berated her.

She shut her eyes, shaking her head in pain. Jeri suddenly froze for a few seconds after she felt a warm liquid spreading between her legs, and her eyes snapped open in horror.

Gazing downward, she wondered if her child had escaped her womb. 

She was shocked to discover that her sheets were covered in blood, but there was no indication of a child between her legs. 

“Help…please,” Jeri begged, her voice cracking.

Margaret finally sprang into action, rushing to call for a doctor, acting as if she really cared. 

However, before Margaret could reach the door, Jeri's eyes had lost their ability to see light, and darkness reigned over her. 

A few minutes later, a doctor, who will deliver the infant, a labor nurse, who will coach the pushing while monitoring the baby's progress, and one more nurse entered the room. 

One of the nurses held a delivery tray containing gloves, scissors, artery forceps, cord clamp, sponge-holding forceps, a urinary catheter, a bowl for antiseptic lotion, a gauze piece, and some other surgical equipment.

When they approached Jeri, who was lifeless on the bed, the doctor turned to Margaret and announced. “Sorry, madam. Please excuse us while we perform her operation, okay?" 

Dr. Eric spoke calmly but eagerly, hoping to save both Jeri and the baby.

Margaret chuckled and said nothing, instead taking her daughter's hand and exiting the room, leaving the medical staff to their duties.

As they walked away, their only wish was that Jeri and her innocent child would not survive the surgery.

As soon as they found themselves in the hallway, they spotted an average he