Reclaimed By My Ex-husband-Chapter 67: I regret loving you.

Again?

Confusion flashed across his face. What did she mean? This was their first child... wasn’t it?

Nathaniel stared at her, stunned, trying to make sense of it. Had she lost a baby before and never told him? Or was she just too shattered right now to speak clearly?

He shook the thought off and tried to steady himself.

"It was the only option," he said, choosing his words carefully. "If I hadn’t signed the consent form..."

"You signed to kill my baby," Zara cut in, choking with emotion. "Our baby." Her fists clenched the bedsheet. "Didn’t your hand shake? Didn’t your heart stop for even a second?"

Nathaniel couldn’t speak. He swallowed hard, the memory of that moment weighing heavily on his chest.

He had hesitated. His hands had trembled. But in the chaos, in the urgency of that moment, he had chosen her well-being over the baby.

But the words he reached for came out wrong.

"It’s just a baby. You can have one later," he said, trying to comfort her, to help her look ahead instead of back.

The words hit her like a slap.

"Just a baby?" She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Her whole body trembled, but she forced herself upright despite the pain screaming through her body. "That ’just a baby’ was a life. It was growing inside me. It was a part of me. And you signed it away—like it meant nothing."

Nathaniel stepped forward, shaken. "No... that’s not what I meant."

"You don’t love me," she fired back, silencing him. "You never did. If you had, you wouldn’t have let the baby die."

Nathaniel’s control finally cracked. "That was my baby, too," he snapped, his voice rising with emotion.

He wasn’t made of stone. He had felt every ounce of pain when he signed those papers. But at that moment, her life had been the only thing that mattered. Was that wrong?

"Your baby?" Zara let out a bitter, humorless chuckle. "No... it wasn’t."

Nathaniel stared at her, dumbfounded. "What are you saying?"

Zara’s eyes locked onto his, burning with fury and pain. "Remember what you said to me when I told you I wanted a baby with you... you said no. You said Zane was enough and that you didn’t want another baby."

Nathaniel stood frozen. He remembered saying that—back when he was still drowning in grief over Nora. Back then, he had shut down any chance of letting someone else in. He hadn’t been ready for love, for a future with Zara.

But now everything was different. He had started to see her not as someone filling a void, not just for Zane, but as someone who mattered to him. He realized he couldn’t lose. He had never thought she would throw his past words back in his face like blades.

"You obviously don’t want a baby from me." Her voice drew him back to the present. "Right?"

Nathaniel drew in a breath, trying to steady himself. "I know you are hurting," he said, his voice gentle this time. "But this isn’t helping. You are overthinking everything, and it’s only going to make you feel worse. You need to rest."

He stepped forward cautiously, reaching to pull her into his arms. But she flinched hard and shoved him away.

"Don’t touch me."

Nathaniel stumbled back, startled by her outburst. Her eyes were blazing, every inch of her radiating fury. And it scared him.

"You are hurting me because you know I love you," Zara spat. "You have taken me for granted all this time. You thought I’d never say a word, that I’d just take whatever you threw at me. And I did... but not anymore."

Her hands trembled as her nails dug into the bedsheet. "I regret loving you, Nathaniel. I regret ever meeting you. You’ve destroyed me. I hate you."

Nathaniel felt like the ground was slipping from under him.

Hate?

He couldn’t handle it. The desperation in his chest clawed at him.

"No..." he whispered, shaking his head. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, this time refusing to let go even as she twisted, shoved, and pushed against him.

"You need to calm down," he said, tightening his grip. "Don’t do this to yourself."

"Let go of me," she shouted, thrashing in his arms. "I don’t want you near me. I hate you. Just leave."

But he held on, determined to steady her. To stop her from spiraling any further.

"I don’t want to—" And then, suddenly, she went quiet. Her body sagged in his arms.

"Zara?" Nathaniel froze. His arms were still wrapped around her, but now she wasn’t moving at all.

Panic shot through him.

He looked down at her face and found her unconscious.

"Zara..."

He raised his hand to touch her cheek but paused, heart pounding, his fingers hovering just above her bruised skin. He feared that even the softest touch might hurt her.

"What’s going on in here?" a sharp voice cut through the heavy silence.

Nathaniel turned, startled, to see the doctor entering the room with a nurse close behind. Relief and worry tangled in his chest.

"Doctor—she fainted," he said quickly.

The doctor stepped forward. "Lay her down. We’ll take over from here. You need to step outside."

Nathaniel gently lowered Zara onto the bed, his hands reluctant to let her go. His eyes stayed fixed on her bruised face.

"Mr. Grant," the doctor said more firmly, "please. Give us space to work."

Nathaniel nodded stiffly but didn’t move right away. His feet felt rooted to the spot, unwilling to leave her side.

The nurse came over, placing a light but firm hand on his arm. "Please, sir. We’ll take care of her. Wait outside."

She guided him toward the door. She ushered him outside and closed the door.

Nathaniel stood motionless in the hallway, staring blankly at the closed door. Inside his mind, Zara’s words kept replaying—’I regret loving you. I hate you.’

He swallowed hard, his chest tightening.

’She doesn’t hate me,’ he told himself. ’She is just hurt. She is angry. That’s not the truth—it’s the pain talking.’ fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

Still, her voice echoed through his thoughts. And no matter how many times he tried to convince himself otherwise, a quiet fear whispered back: ’What if she meant every word?’

After a while, the doctor stepped out, his expression calm but serious. "She is emotionally fragile. Any more stress could worsen her condition. Do your best to lift her spirits. I’ve given her something to help her rest. Let her sleep for now."

With that, he walked off.

Nathaniel quietly entered the room. Zara’s body was still. Even in sleep, her brow was furrowed, etched with pain and unrest.

He reached out, his fingers brushing her temple until the tension softened.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

He pulled it out and glanced at the screen—Grandma.

He stepped aside and answered. "Hello?"

"How is Zara?" Paulina’s voice came through, thick with worry. "I am planning to come to the hospital. Zane wants to see her."

"It’s already late," Nathaniel said wearily. "She is sleeping. You can bring Zane tomorrow."

There was a short pause. "Alright... Tomorrow, then."

"Okay, Grandma. I’ll talk to you later."

Ending the call, he turned back to the bed and slowly walked over. Everything replayed in his mind—the image of Zara slumped in that filthy room, tied up, bleeding, helpless. The bruises on her face. The blood around her.

He lowered himself into the chair beside her, taking her hands in his.

"They’ll pay." Something dark stirred in his eyes. "Every single one of them. I swear, I won’t let them get away with this."

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