When I woke up, a nurse was beside me, giving me some hot water. “Where’s your husband? Should we call him? What could be more important than his wife giving birth?”
I was stunned. “He didn’t come?”
The baby was born overnight and he never came. Holding back my anger, I called him. This time, he answered.
He lowered his voice and said, “I’ll be right back.”
A woman’s voice followed, “William, have breakfast before you go. You must be exhausted after last night. I made chicken noodle soup.”
My fingers clenched and my heart felt stabbed with pain. “You stayed at her place all night?”
His calm tone turned sharp. “What are you implying? She has a baby. What could I do? Fine, I’ll come back after breakfast.”
The call ended suddenly and tears poured down my face. Half an hour later, William arrived with roses and clean clothes.
“Wife, I was wrong. I thought you were lying. When I got home, you were gone and the neighbors said an ambulance took you away.”
He kept explaining that Regina’s child had a tantrum and wouldn’t let him leave. After finally putting the child to sleep, it was already past midnight, so he stayed there to avoid disturbing me.