Robert came in just as I dropped it. His eyes moved from the phone to my face, studying me. For a second, I thought he might ask who I was talking to, but then he looked away like he had decided not to care.
"Jasmine needs me, but I’ll be back before noon," he said, giving me one last look before walking out.
I would rather count individual grains of rice than count the lies Robert had told me in the past six years.
Robert never came to the hospital for the rest of the week.
A nurse walked in to run a check-up on me, and for some reason, she started grinning so widely it felt like she was mocking me.
"Mr. Robert looks so good with Miss Jasmine. They are so lovely. Everyone on the internet can’t even get over them. Just take a look," she said, holding her phone close to my face.
It was a video of Jasmine and Robert on a yacht, all loved up. He was rubbing her stomach, kissing her, touching her like I had never existed. The caption underneath read, "A soft life for my queen and our little miracle."
“Everyone in the comments is just all over them,” the nurse added, still grinning like it was the best news ever.
My stomach twisted, but I managed to say nothing.
***