Samuel looked at me without saying a word. He clenched his fists, the veins on the back of his hands bulging.
Finally, he spoke, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were pregnant …"
"It's okay." I interrupted him before he could continue.
"Alright."
He seemed truly remorseful, lowering his head and saying nothing more.
The ward was deathly silent.
I had just adjusted my mood and was about to speak in a light-hearted tone, when his phone rang.
That call seemed like his savior, rescuing him from the suffocating atmosphere and giving him a chance to escape reality.
He left and didn't return for a long time.
At eleven o'clock, he sent me a photo on WhatsApp.
I opened it. It was a photo of him with Wina. The girl was looking at the camera, while he was not. He was drinking with his face turned away.
Two minutes later, another message came in.
[Sorry, sent by mistake.]
In that moment, my heart shattered.
I knew Wina did it on purpose, but I couldn't help but care.
My newlywed husband, drinking and seeking pleasure with another woman right after I lost our child.
From the photo, I saw the bar's logo on the deliberately shown cup and eventually, I found that bar.