Chapter 2
The sharp smell of antiseptic dragged me back to reality.
My vision slowly cleared.
A stark white ceiling came into focus above me.
My hand flew to my stomach.
My six-month baby bump felt heavy beneath the thin hospital gown, and sharp pain pulsed through my abdomen, bringing everything from the night before rushing back.
“You’re awake.”
The hospital room door opened, and a female doctor stepped inside with a chart in her hand.
Her expression was serious.
“You took a very dangerous risk. We were able to stabilize the baby, but you had severe contractions and lost a significant amount of blood. If you had arrived even two minutes later, the outcome could have been much worse.”
She glanced down at the chart.
“You’re severely anemic, and you showed signs of preterm labor. You need to avoid stress, limit physical activity, and remain under close medical supervision for the rest of your pregnancy.”
She paused.
“If the bleeding or contractions return, call 911 immediately.”
“You’ll stay here for observation for the next week. That is not negotiable.”
Then she looked at me more closely.
“Where is your husband? Why isn’t he here at a time like this?”
The word husband tore through the last of my defenses.
The blood on the carpet.
Grant’s cold impatience.
The photo of him sitting across from Audrey at dinner.
It all came back at once.
Humiliation flooded through me.
My eyes burned, and the tears came before I could stop them.
The doctor let out a quiet sigh and stepped out of the room, giving me privacy.
The silence was broken by my ringing phone.
My hand trembled as I answered.
Grant’s voice was calm.
Almost cruel.
“What happened at the house? The housekeeper said there was blood all over the living room. What kind of scene were you trying to make? You could have called and explained instead of leaving a mess for the staff to deal with.”
My grip tightened around the phone until my knuckles turned white.
This was Grant.
I had nearly died in our home.
I was carrying his child and had been rushed to the hospital.
And he was worried about the carpet.
About the inconvenience to the staff.
“I’m fine,” I said.
I forced my voice to stay steady, even as disappointment seeped into every part of me.
“The doctor wants me to stay for a week so they can monitor the baby.”
There was a brief silence.
Then he answered without concern.
“Fine. If you’re okay, stay there. I’ll stop by after work.”
He hung up before I could respond.
I closed my eyes.
Cold spread through my body.
Early in my pregnancy, Grant had promised he would be there for me.
He had sworn he would stay by my side through every difficult moment.
I had once asked him, afraid of what pregnancy might do to us, “Can you really stay faithful to me through all of this?”
He had looked me straight in the eye.
So certain.
So sincere.
Now he felt more distant than a stranger.
Colder.
Crueler.
Maybe pregnancy really was a test of character.
And Grant had failed in the worst possible way.
He finally arrived that evening.
He was still wearing his perfectly tailored suit.
A perfume I did not recognize clung to him.
Audrey’s perfume.
He did not come to the bed.
He stayed near the doorway and glanced at my swollen stomach as if he were checking whether I was still alive.
Before he could offer one false word of concern, his phone vibrated in his pocket.
He looked at the screen and frowned.
Then he turned toward the window.
The moment he answered, his voice changed.
It became soft.
Urgent.
“What happened? Is your anxiety getting bad again? Okay. Don’t be afraid. I’m coming right now.”
He ended the call and turned to leave without looking at me.
“You’re leaving?”
My voice was hoarse.
Barely more than a whisper.
“I’m still in the hospital. The baby was just stabilized.”
He did not even stop.
“She’s in bad shape. She can’t be alone.”
His hand was already on the door.
“You’re fine now, so stay here and rest. I’ll have my assistant send you dinner.”
The door slammed shut behind him.
And in that moment, I finally understood.
In this marriage, I was not only the woman who had lost.
I was the joke.