Damian Pov
My phone rang at exactly six in the morning. I grabbed it off the nightstand. The private investigator.
"What" I said.
"You need to see this" Johnson said. "Sending photos now"
My phone buzzed. Three photos came through. I opened the first one.
Bella. In a grocery store. She was reaching for something on a high shelf. The photo was blurry but I could see her face clearly. She looked pale. Thin. Exhausted.
I swiped to the second photo. My heart stopped.
Bella was on the ground. Lying on the grocery store floor. People were crowded around her. Someone was holding her head. Someone else was on their phone probably calling for help.
She fainted. She collapsed in the middle of a grocery store because she was not taking care of herself. Because she had no one to help her.
I swiped to the third photo. Bella sitting up. A store employee was helping her to her feet. She looked embarrassed. Weak. Alone.
"When were these taken" I asked Johnson.
"Yesterday afternoon" he said. "She refused to go to the hospital. Just got up and left the store"
"Find out what hospital she uses" I said. "Find out her doctor's name. Find out everything"
"Already on it boss" Johnson said.
I hung up. I stared at the photos. I zoomed in on Bella's face in the second one. Her eyes were closed. Her skin was so pale it looked gray.
This was my fault. All of it. She was pregnant and struggling and alone because of me. Because I destroyed our marriage. Because I drove her away.
I got dressed and drove straight to the hospital Johnson told me about. The one closest to Bella's apartment. The one she probably used.
I walked up to the front desk. A tired looking nurse glanced up at me.
"Can I help you" she asked.
"I need information about a patient" I said. "Bella Morgan. Or maybe Bella Roberts. She was brought in yesterday"
"I cannot give out patient information sir" the nurse said. "Privacy laws"
I pulled out my wallet. I took out five hundred dollar bills and set them on the counter.
"Please" I said. "She is my wife. She is pregnant with my child. I just need to know if she is okay"
The nurse looked at the money. Then at me. Then at the money again.
She took the bills and tucked them into her pocket. She typed something into her computer.
"No one by that name was admitted yesterday" she said quietly. "But a Bella Morgan was treated in the emergency room three days ago"
Three days ago. She went to the hospital three days ago and I had no idea.
"What happened" I asked.
The nurse hesitated. I pulled out more money. She took it.
"Dehydration and malnutrition" she said. "The doctor gave her IV fluids and told her to rest. She is pregnant and not taking care of herself properly. She needs to eat more. Rest more. She needs someone to help her"
Guilt ripped through my chest like a knife. Dehydration. Malnutrition. She was starving herself and our baby because she had no money. Because she was too proud to ask me for help.
"Thank you" I said to the nurse.
I left the hospital and got in my car. I drove to the most expensive grocery store in the city. I bought everything I could think of. Fresh fruit. Vegetables. Meat. Bread. Milk. Prenatal vitamins. Protein shakes. Everything a pregnant woman needed to stay healthy.
I bought so much food it filled the entire back of my car. Then I went to a baby store and bought more things. A pregnancy pillow. Comfortable clothes. Maternity vitamins. Anything that might help her.
I drove to Bella's apartment. I parked across the street. I carried the first box of food to her building. I climbed the three flights of stairs to her door.
I set the box down quietly. I went back down and got another box. And another. And another. I made six trips total. All the food and supplies sitting in a pile outside her door.
I pulled cash out of my wallet. Five thousand dollars in hundred dollar bills. I put them in an envelope and wrote on it: For the baby. Please use this. Please take care of yourself.
I put the envelope on top of the boxes. Then I went back down to my car and waited.
An hour later Bella came home. I watched from my car as she walked up to her building. She climbed the stairs out of sight.
I waited. A few minutes later I heard a scream. Bella's voice.
"No" she yelled. "No no no"
I got out of my car and ran across the street. I reached the bottom of her stairs just as boxes started flying down. Literally flying. Bella was throwing everything I bought down the stairwell.
Fruit smashed on the stairs. Milk cartons burst open. Bread packages bounced off the walls. Everything I bought was being destroyed.
I ran up the stairs. Bella was standing at her door throwing another box. When she saw me she froze.
"Get out" she screamed. "Get out of here Damian"
"Bella please" I said. "You need to eat. You need to take care of yourself and the baby"
"I do not need anything from you" she yelled. She picked up the envelope of cash. She ripped it open and money flew everywhere. Hundred dollar bills floating down the stairwell like confetti.
"You fainted in the grocery store" I said. "You went to the hospital for dehydration. You are not eating enough. You are not"
"How do you know that" Bella said. Her face went white. "Are you following me. Are you watching me"
"I am trying to help you" I said.
"By spying on me" Bella yelled even louder. "By stalking me. By invading my privacy"
She walked to the top of the stairs. She looked right at me. Right into my eyes. And I saw so much hatred there it made me physically step back.
"Stop pretending you care" she yelled loud enough for the whole building to hear. "Stop pretending this is about me or the baby. This is about your guilt. Your shame. You want to feel better about yourself. Well I am not going to help you feel better Damian. I am not going to forgive you or let you play daddy or let you anywhere near me ever again"
She went into her apartment and slammed the door so hard the whole building shook.
I stood there on the stairs surrounded by broken food and scattered money. I heard her crying through the door. Deep painful sobs that broke my heart into even smaller pieces.
I wanted to knock. I wanted to break down the door. I wanted to force her to let me help.
But I could not. She made it very clear. She did not want me. She did not want my help. She would rather starve than take anything from me.