I Gave Them Their Show. I Gave Her My Wedding Chapter 04
The crowd jeered.
“I knew it. Mr. Sterling would never marry someone like her.”
“Writing all that nasty stuff and blaming Blair—pathetic.”
The words stung like needles.
In the chaos, someone shoved me.
I stumbled and hit the ground.
Reid’s eyes widened. He started toward me.
Blair grabbed his arm, clutching her head, “Reid, my head hurts.”
The three of them rushed her away.
I lowered my head.
Seeing the red, the crowd finally scattered.
Just before I blacked out, my phone buzzed—Reid.
“Blair can’t handle the truth. It’ll set her back.”
“I’ll send someone to take you to the hospital. Consider this a lesson. Next time, keep quiet.”
Reid, you got your wish. There won’t be a next time.
—
When I opened my eyes, the doctor handed me a form.
His voice was gentle,
“I’m sorry, Ms. Vance. You lost the child.”
My mind went blank.
I stared at the paper. I’d been two months expecting.
I never even knew she existed.
The pain cut through me like a blade.
My phone buzzed. Blair sent a photo—her gestation test.
Her messages kept coming.
[Nova, I’ll be honest. My memory came back six months ago.]
[But I fell in love with Reid, so I kept pretending.]
[I saw your medical records. I knew you were expecting. I planned this.]
[Only I get to have his child!]
She sent a screenshot. The group chat was called “The Not-So-Extras.”
I wasn’t in it.
I scrolled through thousands of messages.
From choosing godparents to decorating the nursery.
From child names to whose eyes the child would have.
Piece by piece, my heart went cold.
I signed the miscarriage form. I handed it to the doctor with my resignation,
“Please give these to Reid.”
If I was the extra in this five-person world, then I was done making room.
—
On the other side, Blair sat with the three of them, beaming, hand on her stomach.
Reid’s head ached.
He’d been drunk that night—he’d mistaken Blair for Nova.
Now she was expecting.
He sighed.
He’d make it up to Nova. Like he always did.
But something felt wrong.
He stepped out for air and called Nova.
Blocked. He tried WhatsApp. Blocked.
His chest tightened.
The doctor came, his face serious,
“Mr. Sterling, Ms. Voss’s amnesia resolved six months ago.”
Reid shook his head, “That’s impossible.”
The doctor handed him a folder, “Ms. Vance asked me to give you these.”
Reid opened it—her resignation letter. His heart lurched.
He turned the page.
The next document hit him like a frozen wave.
