Chapter 2

2 Two days later.

In the hospital, I woke up to see him reviewing documents.

Our eyes met for a long time.

He impassively brought a bowl of porridge, pretending to feed me.

I shook my head, “I’ll do it myself.”

Watching me finish half a bowl, he asked, "Are you feeling unwell anywhere?"

I responded indirectly, "Please give me my phone."

My tone was too distant. He was stunned for several seconds before contacting the butler for my phone.

Seeing many missed calls, he abruptly asked, "Who called?"

He'd never asked so many questions before.

With a hint of annoyance, I said, "You don't know them."

Unbuttoning his shirt, he looked down at me coldly, "Sarah, how long are you planning to act like a spoiled brat?"

"Do you think you can get away with this?"

Before, when he was angry, I would reflect on myself and appease him.

But now, I simply pointed to his vibrating phone, expressionless, "Jenny’s looking for you."

He smiled, habitually avoiding me, and went to the hospital corridor.

The moment he left, my phone rang.

I picked up, and before I could speak, the other person said anxiously, "Aren't you supposed to come see me? Sarah, did you change your mind?"

"No, I just had an accident…"

"Accident? What happened? No, I have to come back…"

Interrupting him, I said quietly, "Give me a few more days."

He returned when I hung up.

Noticing the smile I hadn't shown him in a long time, he felt inexplicably suffocated.

But he’d promised Jenny he’d sing lullabies for her and the baby, so he didn't ask who I was talking to―probably my cousin, since my circle only included female relatives after marrying him.

Taking his files, he coldly said, "Sarah, something came up at the office. I'll come tomorrow."

Tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that, he didn’t show up.

But thanks to mutual friends, I constantly received videos of him and Jenny.

He took her to parties and dinners.

Like a lovestruck teenager, he eagerly introduced her to everyone.

The day I was discharged, he posted a nine-photo collage on his social media.

At sunset, he stood in a hot air balloon, holding Jenny’s face, kissing her passionately.

I commented: “Congratulations! Wishing you happiness and a healthy baby.”

Ten minutes later, he called.

I didn’t answer.

Thirty minutes later, after checking out, I saw them at the obstetrics and gynecology department.

I overheard a nurse say to Jenny, "Mrs. Smith, your husband really loves you. He's always here with you. He even warms the gel for your ultrasound to keep you from getting cold."

The other pregnant women were envious.

Touching my belly, I remembered the child I carried.

The day I miscarried in a car accident, I tearfully video-called him.

I saw a naked Jenny: "Mrs. Smith, Mr. Smith lost a game to me, and is now being punished. Is there something you need?"

I hung up.

Within a minute, he called back, hugging a teary Jenny, cursing me for being petty and stupid.

He said, “You can't even keep your own child. What good are you? You should just get hit by a truck.”

Snapping back to reality, I was about to leave, when he walked over coldly, "What are you doing standing there?"

Lowering my eyes, I instinctively explained, "I wasn't following you. It was just a coincidence. I'm sorry for bothering you."

"Wait."

He frowned. Jenny's eyes flashed with jealousy.

Tightening her grip on him, she smiled, "Mrs. Smith, thank you for donating blood. If it weren't for you, I'd still be dizzy. Ethan, please let her come home with us, okay?"

He affectionately stroked her nose, "Whatever my sweet pregnant baby says."