I'll most likely be posting this late now. Before, I would post on my school Chromebook, but I had to turn it in yesterday (because it was the last day of school). This chapter may be triggering for some. It is something that has been attempted before, and it deals with FI trauma and guilt.

Thanks for reading!

-CL

I can't see anything, but I can still hear. "Oh, Ames. She's perfect," Maxon whispers. I imagine him staring at the baby, adoring. I hear them talk some more, but I allow myself to tune them out. I let myself sob, not caring about my makeup anymore. I rock myself back and forth, trying to comfort myself for a while. I stand up shakily, knowing that I need to reappear sooner than later. I dig my fingernails into my arm, trying to stop the tears. I grab my gloves from the closet ready to put them on, but I notice that I drew blood-in multiple places. I turn to walk toward the sink, but I notice Maxon coming around the corner. "Fuck," I mumble under my breath. I turn back around, not wanting him to see my tear-stricken face.

"Bella?" he asks, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me into his body. I pull out of his embrace, trying to pull my gloves back on. But Maxon notices, gently grabbing my arm. He inhales sharply. "Bella, what happened?"

I notice the trails of blood on my arms. "Nothing," I reply, stony. I pull out of his embrace, still careful to not let him see my face. "Just go back to-to your n-niece," I say, but my voice cracks.

With alarming speed, Maxon turns me to face him. It only takes one look into his eyes before I notice the pain in them-the pain from our lost child. I break again, my legs giving out. Maxon catches me this time, sinking to the ground with me. I bury my face in my hands, shaking with silent sobs. "It's…it's all my fault," I whisper. "I should have been better." I dig my fingernails into my arms again.

Maxon notices, gently pulling them away. "My dear, don't hurt yourself," he murmurs.

"But I deserve it," I moan. "My body killed our baby." I lean my head against his chest. "I should have been the one to die, Maxon. It should have been me!"

"You don't mean that Bella; it's not your fault. Look at me, Bella," he commands. I refuse, so he gently turns me and tilts my chin up. I give in and look at him. "Bella," he starts, completely serious, "if you died, I don't think I would have been able to go through life without you."

"You would have had Lily, your niece, America, and everyone else," I respond. "I'm not that important."

A flicker of rage passes over his face. "You are the most important person in my life, Bella Rose Schreave," he says sharply.

I cringe, not wanting to listen. "But…"

"No, buts, Bella Schreave," he says, cupping my face. "You damn well know you are the most important person in my life. Where the hell would I be without you? Who would I be without you? I don't even want to think about that!" He smashes his lips into mine, but I don't find pleasure in the kiss. I do the bare minimum and Maxon notices. He pulls away and gently traces my swollen lips. "Can you please talk to me?"

I sigh. "Maxon, what if this marriage wasn't such a good idea?" I ask in a whisper, scared to even say it aloud. "I'm no good for you. Look at me-I'm a constant mess!" I allow silent tears to run down my cheeks.

Maxon gently brushes away my tears. "Bella, that's life. Do you think I'm always perfectly together?"

"Yes!" I shout. "Even if you have a problem you hide it well! I can't even do that! I try and try and try but I never can! I'm so fucked up I don't understand how you could love me!" I break into sobs, pulling out of Maxon's grasp. "I'm the problem!"

"My dear, you are not the problem," Maxon says, reaching out for me. I shy away from his touch and pull my gloves on. I stand up and walk to the sink, looking in the mirror above it. My eyes are completely ruined, and my base is ruined from the running mascara and eyeliner. I groan and look to see if there's anything here-I asked a long time ago if they would put duplicates of my makeup in the Royal safe room, the safe room we're in. Thank God there is and it's the waterproof versions. I scrub off my ruined makeup with a washcloth by the sink and start applying my products. I hear Maxon clear his throat. I sigh and turn around, my base finished. He's leaning against the doorframe, his arm above his head. I gesture for him to speak with my makeup brush. He pushes off of the doorframe, and I notice that his sleeves are rolled up. He reaches out to touch me and I flinch. He hesitates and hears his niece crying. He turns his head, considering checking on her. I use this chance to turn back to the mirror, working on my eyes. I hear America shushing the baby and know that Maxon is going to focus on me again. I don't turn around, hoping he'll just leave me alone. I feel his arms wrap around me and I hold back a sigh. I cap my eyeliner and grab my mascara, finishing my eyes. I grab lipstick and apply it. I look at myself in the mirror, ignoring Maxon, and deem myself pretty enough to show my face. "Bella," he mumbles into my hair.

"Yes?" I ask, recovering my emotionless voice. I stiffen, turning myself into the emotionless person I created. I don't lean into Maxon's touch; instead, I try to get out of his embrace. I end up wriggling free and putting some space between us.

Maxon sighs. "Bella, why don't you grieve with me?" He steps closer, but I take a step back.

"Because, Maxon, you shouldn't love me anymore. I made a mistake, so I should be punished."

A flicker of rage passes over his face. "Do you think I'm not going to love you because our baby died?" he shouts. I know America can hear us arguing, but I don't care anymore. We need to discuss this instead of it simmering. He takes two steps forward, and I mirror him, keeping the same distance between us. "Bella, do you realize how stupid you sound?"

I flinch but don't allow the insult to affect me. I know he's just angry. "It's very logical, Maxon Schreave," I answer, emotionless. "You should be angry with me." It's how my parents treated me.

"But it's not your fault, Bella! Why can't you see that?!" He throws his hands up in exasperation.

I sigh. "Maxon-it is my fault!" I say calmly. "The uterus and womb that should be able to carry a baby to full term? It failed us, Maxon!" I start shouting, but keeping my face smooth. "America could do it and she was raped!" I realize as soon as I said it that it was a low blow. My hand flies up to cover my mouth, shocked. I run over to America and notice the tears in her eyes. "America…I'm so sorry."

America looks me in the eyes. "It's true, though, Bella. It should have been me to miscarry." She looks down at the baby. "And meet Annabella Zoe Schreave. She's named after her aunt, after all."

I gasp, tears coming to my eyes. "Ames…you shouldn't have." I dig my fingernails into my palm, stopping the tears. "Ex-excuse me," I stutter. I rush away but realize I'll either have to deal with America or Maxon. I walk to the closet with the supplies when I hear pounding on the door. Perfect, I think.

"Stay back, Ames. You too, Bella," I hear Maxon call. I ignore him and grab the hidden gun from the closet. A while back, Maxon had hidden weapons throughout the safe rooms, making sure that I could protect myself if needed. I know how to shoot a gun if necessary. I walk to the door, in sight of both America and Maxon, pointing my gun at the door. "Bella, I said stay back," Maxon says, walking toward me.

I slowly turn the gun to point at my own head and click off the safety.