“Tsk. Another career woman. What could be more important than her child? The baby might not even survive,” the doctor muttered.
I had no response. Karen had always disliked me interfering in her personal life, so to avoid her disliking me, I gave her as much freedom as possible. In our three years of marriage, I lived cautiously, not daring to bother her at all.
But looking back now, I found it laughable. Was there anything about our relationship that resembled a marriage?
After completing all the tests, it was already 6 p.m., right during rush hour. Karen had taken the car and it was difficult to get a taxi from the hospital. So I could only sit on a bench and wait.
I waited and waited, but no cars were available. With one last shred of hope, I called Karen. The phone connected quickly, but before I could say anything, she immediately started accusing me, “It’s after 6 p.m.! Why aren’t you home yet? I’m pregnant and you’re still not back to cook for me?”
I calmly replied, “I’m at the hospital. I just finished discussing your prenatal checkup with the doctor.”