Chapter 1 · My Surgeon Husband's Regret

Chapter 1

At twenty-four weeks pregnant, my prenatal checkup showed the baby might have a complex heart defect.

I sent the report to my husband, the best heart surgeon in town.

He usually works late into the night and barely makes it home before midnight, but this time, he replied instantly.

Andrew: [Are you seriously asking? Don't you know the basics of prenatal care?]

Andrew: [Don't use a baby who shouldn't even be born to tie me down.]

I stared at the screen, and my fingers went cold.

The next second, he sent me about 170 dollars.

The note read:

[Abortion fee.]

*****

The smell of disinfectant in the hospital hallway stung my nose, and the cold air crept up my legs. I sat outside the obstetrics department, my hand clutching the report so tightly that it was crumpled.

Reading those words on the report, my eyes started to sting.

Fetal heart structure appears abnormal. Recommend further fetal echocardiogram and multidisciplinary evaluation.

The doctor spoke carefully.

The doctor said, "Charlotte Evans, this isn't the final diagnosis. Don't scare yourself. It's best to have a family member go with you to the cardiothoracic and prenatal diagnosis centers for further evaluation."

Family. That's who the doctor said should be with me.

I glanced at my phone and snapped a picture of the report to send to Andrew Parker.

He was the youngest chief physician in the cardiothoracic department at City General Hospital. People would wait months just to see him.

But I'm his wife.

I thought, at least right now, he'd ask if I was in pain, or if I was scared.

Less than ten seconds after I sent the message, my phone lit up.

Andrew: [Are you seriously asking? Don't you know the basics of prenatal care?]

I felt a jolt in my fingers, almost dropping my phone.

Another message flashed on the screen.

Andrew: [Don't use a baby who shouldn't even be born to tie me down.]

I stared at those two lines, the voices around me fading in and out. The baby gave a gentle kick inside me. I pressed my palm to my belly, my throat tight, like it was stuffed with cotton.

['Baby, your daddy doesn't want you.']

My phone buzzed again.

A transfer for about 170 dollars.

The note just said: [Abortion fee.]

I let out a bitter, helpless laugh, my lip splitting under my teeth, the taste of blood sharp on my tongue.

The pregnant woman next to me shot me a furtive look, and her husband quickly handed her a cup of hot water, his hand guarding her waist.

I tried to stand up, but my knees nearly buckled. Just as I steadied myself against the chair, my phone started ringing.

It was Andrew's assistant, Ben Carter.

Ben said, "Hey, Charlotte, Chief Parker just went into surgery. He probably won't be out until this afternoon."

My throat was parched.

"He just texted me back," I said.

There was a stunned pause from Ben.

Ben said, "No way. Chief Parker's phone was charging in his office. Miss Reed was in there with her mom, waiting for the test results. Charlotte, are you sure you didn't misread it?"

Miss Reed.

Joanna Reed.

She was Andrew's mentor's daughter. After her father died, Andrew looked after her and her mom for three whole years.

I closed my eyes, the veins on the back of my hand bulging.

"Where's his office?" I asked.

Ben hesitated.

Ben said, "Charlotte, you're pregnant. Maybe you shouldn't come over. Aunt Linda's not in a good mood today. Chief Parker said she can't handle any stress."

I hung up the phone.

The elevator doors slid open, harsh white light pouring out. I leaned against the wall and made my way toward the cardiothoracic department.

With every step, my belly felt heavier.

People were coming and going at the nurse's station, the beeping of monitors drifting out from the rooms. As soon as I reached the hallway, I heard Joanna's voice.

"If Andy finds out Charlie's using the baby to manipulate him again, he'll have a real headache," Joanna said.

The door was slightly ajar.

Joanna was sitting in Andrew's office, holding his phone, the screen still lit up.

Her mother, Linda Reed, was sprawled out on the couch with her legs crossed, her voice so shrill it hurt my ears.

Linda said, "Some nobody from a humble background, trying to trap a man with a pregnancy. Does she even think she's good enough? Jo, you should've told Andrew sooner that her baby has problems."

Chapter 1

At twenty-four weeks pregnant, my prenatal checkup showed the baby might have a complex heart defect.

I sent the report to my husband, the best heart surgeon in town.

He usually works late into the night and barely makes it home before midnight, but this time, he replied instantly.

Andrew: [Are you seriously asking? Don't you know the basics of prenatal care?]

Andrew: [Don't use a baby who shouldn't even be born to tie me down.]

I stared at the screen, and my fingers went cold.

The next second, he sent me about 170 dollars.

The note read:

[Abortion fee.]

*****

Reading those words on the report, my eyes started to sting.

Fetal heart structure appears abnormal. Recommend further fetal echocardiogram and multidisciplinary evaluation.

The doctor spoke carefully.

Family. That's who the doctor said should be with me.

I glanced at my phone and snapped a picture of the report to send to Andrew Parker.

He was the youngest chief physician in the cardiothoracic department at City General Hospital. People would wait months just to see him.

But I'm his wife.

I thought, at least right now, he'd ask if I was in pain, or if I was scared.

Less than ten seconds after I sent the message, my phone lit up.

Andrew: [Are you seriously asking? Don't you know the basics of prenatal care?]

I felt a jolt in my fingers, almost dropping my phone.

Another message flashed on the screen.

Andrew: [Don't use a baby who shouldn't even be born to tie me down.]

I stared at those two lines, the voices around me fading in and out. The baby gave a gentle kick inside me. I pressed my palm to my belly, my throat tight, like it was stuffed with cotton.

['Baby, your daddy doesn't want you.']

My phone buzzed again.

A transfer for about 170 dollars.

The note just said: [Abortion fee.]

I let out a bitter, helpless laugh, my lip splitting under my teeth, the taste of blood sharp on my tongue.

The pregnant woman next to me shot me a furtive look, and her husband quickly handed her a cup of hot water, his hand guarding her waist.

I tried to stand up, but my knees nearly buckled. Just as I steadied myself against the chair, my phone started ringing.

It was Andrew's assistant, Ben Carter.

Ben said, "Hey, Charlotte, Chief Parker just went into surgery. He probably won't be out until this afternoon."

My throat was parched.

"He just texted me back," I said.

There was a stunned pause from Ben.

Ben said, "No way. Chief Parker's phone was charging in his office. Miss Reed was in there with her mom, waiting for the test results. Charlotte, are you sure you didn't misread it?"

Miss Reed.

Joanna Reed.

She was Andrew's mentor's daughter. After her father died, Andrew looked after her and her mom for three whole years.

I closed my eyes, the veins on the back of my hand bulging.

"Where's his office?" I asked.

Ben hesitated.

Ben said, "Charlotte, you're pregnant. Maybe you shouldn't come over. Aunt Linda's not in a good mood today. Chief Parker said she can't handle any stress."

I hung up the phone.

The elevator doors slid open, harsh white light pouring out. I leaned against the wall and made my way toward the cardiothoracic department.

With every step, my belly felt heavier.

People were coming and going at the nurse's station, the beeping of monitors drifting out from the rooms. As soon as I reached the hallway, I heard Joanna's voice.

"If Andy finds out Charlie's using the baby to manipulate him again, he'll have a real headache," Joanna said.

The door was slightly ajar.

Joanna was sitting in Andrew's office, holding his phone, the screen still lit up.

Her mother, Linda Reed, was sprawled out on the couch with her legs crossed, her voice so shrill it hurt my ears.

Linda said, "Some nobody from a humble background, trying to trap a man with a pregnancy. Does she even think she's good enough? Jo, you should've told Andrew sooner that her baby has problems."