"That's her, isn't it?"
The voice was loud enough to pierce through the haze in Nicole's mind, which stirred her awake.
The sterile white ceiling above seemed to spin, and her nostrils were filled with the faint scent of disinfectant.
Slowly, her surroundings came into focus and the harsh whispers of nurses standing by the door filtered in.
"The so-called Nicole Fury. Can you believe it? After all that drama in the news, she shows up here looking like that."
"You mean after being thrown out by her husband? What a disgrace."
The words were sharp, digging into Nicole like daggers. Her throat was dry, and a dull ache spread across her body, but nothing compared to the sting of their mockery.
"We heard she'd been stealing from her husband, diverting funds to secret accounts..." The dark-skinned nurse said.
"What a shame!" The second nurse added. "I believe that was why she was arrested. Yet, the kind husband still bailed her."
Nicole clenched her fists weakly, willing herself to stay calm even as tears burned at the corners of her eyes.
The voices ceased the moment a tall woman in a white coat entered the room.
Her commanding presence silenced the whispers as she approached Nicole's bedside with a clipboard in hand.
"Mrs. Fury?" The doctor spoke softly, but professionalism laced her tone, making it gentle. "How are you feeling?"
Nicole blinked. Her confusion swirled in her head. Her voice came out hoarse and cracked.
"Where…where am I? What happened?"
The doctor hesitated, glancing at the monitors beside her before answering. "You were brought in last night, unconscious and covered in blood. A good Samaritan had called an ambulance after finding you collapsed on the street."
And suddenly, Nicole was hit by a wave and all of a sudden, those events of the previous night surged back in vivid flashes: the stranger, the alley, the brutal kicks.
Her trembling hand went instinctively to her abdomen. "My baby. what about my baby?"
The doctor's face softened, and she pulled up a chair beside Nicole's bed. "Mrs. Fury," she began softly, "there's something you need to know."
Nicole's heart raced as silence stretched between them.
The doctor took a deep breath before continuing. "You suffered a severe trauma to your abdomen. We did everything we could, but the injuries... they were too much. I'm so sorry, Nicole. The baby didn't make it."
"No."
The word escaped Nicole's lips as her world exploded.
Her chest convulsed with the weight of sobs. "No, no, no!" She grasped at her stomach as if to hold on to the child lost.
The doctor placed a comforting hand on Nicole's shoulder but said nothing.
No words could soothe the look of devastation etched across her face.
After a few moments, the doctor stood, signaling to the nurses to give Nicole some privacy. "We'll be just outside if you need anything," she said softly before leaving the room.
Nicole lay there, tears streaming down her face, her mind spiraling into despair.
The child she had fought so hard to protect was gone. And Taylor, did he even know? Did he care?
An hour went by in a daze, then the door burst open.
Nicole winced, expecting a nurse or the doctor, but two strangers entered, cameras hung around their necks and notepads clutched in their hands.
"Nicole Fury," one of them called out, his voice full of enthusiasm. "We're from The Daily Scoop. Can you tell us what happened last night? Was this another fallout with your husband? Did it lead to your arrest?"
Nicole's eyes stared at them in shock, her throat tightening. "How did you—" she started, but the other journalist cut her off.
"Sources say the Fury family has cut ties with you completely. Care to comment? Or perhaps you'd like to tell us how you ended up here in this condition?"
"Get out!" Nicole screamed, her voice shaking but firm. They disregarded her, asking their questions faster.
"What really happened between you and Taylor Fury? Does this hospitalization mean divorce is imminent?"
Unknown to them, the divorce was already done.
"I said, get out!" Nicole screamed, her voice breaking with rage and despair. The sound was loud enough to draw the nurses and the doctor into the room.
They ushered the journalists out, their protests echoing down the hall.
Nicole collapsed back onto the bed, her chest heaving. She couldn't handle this, any of it.
The betrayal, the loss, the public humiliation. It was too much.
Her gaze fell on the small table beside her bed where her bag had been placed. She was trembling as she reached for her phone.
She had to talk to him; he had to know. Shaking, she dialed Taylor's number once, twice, three times.
None of the calls went through.
Desperation clawed at her.
She texted him instead: "Taylor, it's me. Please. I need you. I'm at the hospital right now. Please come." She stared at the screen, willing it to light up with his reply.
Minutes later, her phone buzzed.
Relief flooded her chest, but as she opened the message, her breath caught in her throat.
The words felt like another blow to her already shattered heart:
"Don't ever fucking call me again. I don't care if you die."
The phone slipped from Nicole's fingers, clattering onto the floor. Her vision blurred as tears streamed down her face.
She had always known Taylor was cold, but this? This cruelty was beyond anything she could have imagined.
A nurse entered moments later, her expression concerned. "Mrs. Fury, we've tried contacting your husband again, but there's been no response."
"Don't call him," Nicole snapped, her voice louder, surer. The nurse's face started in surprise. Nicole didn't care.
"Pardon?"
Her eyes blazed fury and pain as she repeated, "Don't ever call him again."
The nurse hesitated before nodding her head and backing out of the room, leaving Nicole alone.
She sat up in bed, wiping her face clean. Her voice, so sure and steady, shook with vehemence.
"I can take care of my fucking self."