The Womanizer's Mute Wife-Chapter 248: Remote Testimony

"How is my sister now?" Revelation asked. Damon stood behind her. They were a few feet away from Genesis, who was sleeping peacefully on the bed at the far side of the room.

The doctor sighed. "This wouldn’t have happened if you had both followed what I told you the first time. You were the one who was with her when we found out she was pregnant..."

Rev cut him off. "What the fuck are you saying? Get to the damn point."

"Kitten, relax," Damon said in a low tone behind her, his hand resting on her waist. Then he turned to the doctor with a hard look. "What is wrong with her? Is the baby fine?"

The doctor looked between them, choosing his words carefully.

"She’s fine. The baby is fine," he repeated. "But the hematoma has expanded. The bleeding was triggered by acute stress and physical strain. If this continues, the risk of miscarriage increases significantly."

Revelation’s face crumpled.

Tears slid down her cheeks. "This is my fault," she whispered. "I let her handle everything. Kieran, the house, the trial... I knew she wasn’t okay."

Damon’s jaw tightened.

The doctor continued firmly. "From this point forward, she is on strict bed rest. No emotional distress. No confrontations."

Damon stiffened. "Wait. That means she can’t testify in court?"

"No," the doctor said flatly. "Standing in court, reliving trauma publicly? That would spike cortisol levels again. It could trigger another hemorrhage. I strongly advise against physical appearance."

"Shit," Damon muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "Genesis needs to be there. Monica might walk if she doesn’t...."

"She won’t walk," the doctor cut in. "Your legal team can request remote testimony. Video deposition. She can testify from a controlled environment under medical supervision."

Damon paused.

That... was actually solid.

"That’s good," he said. "We can work with that."

Revelation didn’t respond. She just stared at her sister lying pale against the sheets.

The doctor hesitated.

"There’s one more thing."

Both of them looked up sharply.

"What?" Rev demanded.

He exhaled. "We reviewed her prior psychiatric notes."

Rev’s head snapped back. "Why would you do that?"

"Because stress like this doesn’t exist in isolation," the doctor replied calmly. "We needed to understand her psychological baseline."

Damon went still.

"What did you find?" he asked quietly.

The doctor glanced at the chart.

"According to records from Dr. Philip, a trauma psychiatrist, she was being treated for Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."

Rev blinked. "What?"

Damon nodded slowly. "Yeah. Kieran took her. Months ago."

Rev turned to him like he’d just spoken another language. "Why didn’t I know this?"

"Because he didn’t want anyone to," Damon said softly.

The doctor continued, clinical but not cold.

"C-PTSD develops from prolonged, repeated trauma. Not one event. Years of captivity, abuse, control. It alters stress responses. Her nervous system is constantly in survival mode."

Rev’s breathing grew uneven.

"That explains the nightmares," Damon muttered. "The dissociation. The hypervigilance."

The doctor nodded. "And pregnancy amplifies emotional sensitivity. Add an upcoming trial forcing her to relive everything... her body reacted."

Rev covered her mouth, sob breaking free. "She was drowning and I didn’t see it."

"You saw it," Damon said quietly. "She just hid it well."

The doctor closed the chart.

"She needs immediate psychiatric stabilization. Trauma therapy resumed. Possibly pregnancy-safe SSRIs if her psychiatrist agrees. And absolutely no exposure to high-stress triggers."

He looked directly at them.

"If you push her into that courtroom physically, you may not lose just the pregnancy."

Silence filled the room.

Damon swallowed hard. "We’ll arrange remote testimony."

The doctor nodded once. "Good."

Rev walked to the bedside, brushing trembling fingers over Genesis’s hair.

"She doesn’t have to carry this alone anymore," she whispered.

****

"No, I have to be there in court," Genesis started, wincing slightly as the wheelchair bumped over the small edge outside the hospital entrance. "And I can walk, you know."

Revelation didn’t even look at her. "You fainted in a pool of your own blood two days ago."

"I’m fine now."

"You are not fine."

Damon opened the back door of the car carefully. "Let’s not do this in the parking lot," he muttered.

Rev helped Genesis into the seat, slow and cautious like she was made of glass. Genesis hated that look. The fragile one. The careful one.

Once she was settled, Damon closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

Rev slid in beside her.

The car pulled away from the hospital.

For a while, no one spoke.

Genesis stared out the window, fingers resting protectively over the small swell of her stomach.

"I’m not staying out of it," she said quietly. "I won’t sit at home while Monica twists the story."

"You’re not sitting at home," Rev replied evenly. "You’re protecting your baby."

Genesis’s jaw tightened. "That’s exactly why I need to be there."

Rev turned toward her. "And do what? Collapse again? Start bleeding in front of a courtroom full of strangers?"

Genesis flinched.

"That’s not fair."

"No," Rev said, voice cracking despite herself. "What’s not fair is that you almost lost your child because you refuse to let anyone carry anything for you."

The words hung heavy in the car.

Damon glanced at them through the rearview mirror but stayed quiet.

Genesis swallowed. "If I’m not there, what if she walks?"

"She won’t," Rev said firmly. "We’ll arrange remote testimony. You’ll be there through Video. You’ll testify from home while a doctor is on standby."

Genesis didn’t respond immediately.

Her thumb rubbed slow circles over her stomach.

After a long moment, she exhaled.

"Fine," she murmured. "We’ll do it remote."

Rev looked at her sharply.

Genesis kept staring out the window.

But Rev saw it.

The slight drop in her shoulders.

The tiny release of tension.

Relief.

She didn’t want to stand in that courtroom.

She was terrified to.

And that realization hurt more than the argument.

Rev looked away before Genesis could see the guilt in her eyes.

It sat on the tip of her tongue — the question.

What Damon had told her the day he came into her room.

She wanted to ask.

But this wasn’t the moment.

Genesis shifted slightly in her seat. "What about Veronica?"

Rev’s head snapped toward her. "What about her?"

Genesis hesitated. "Is she okay?"

Rev let out a sharp, humorless breath. "Is she okay? Genesis, you nearly miscarried."

"It wasn’t her fault," Genesis said softly.

Rev actually growled under her breath. "She came into your room drunk. Screamed at you. Stressed you out. How is that not her fault?"

Genesis shook her head slowly. "The stress was already there. She didn’t create it."

Rev folded her arms, simmering.

"I’d like to see her," Genesis added.

Rev stared at her like she’d lost her mind. "Absolutely not."

"Rev..."

"No."

The finality in her tone shut the conversation down.

The car fell quiet again.

Streetlights streaked across the window as they drove.

Genesis leaned her head gently against the cool glass, eyes closing.

Her hand stayed on her stomach.

A silent prayer formed in her chest.

Let it end.

Let the trial end.

Let the nightmares end.

Let the baby live.

She just wanted a peaceful life with the love of her life and her family, was that too much to ask.

The car continued down the road toward the estate, heavy with everything none of them were saying.