To secure convenient parking for my prenatal checkups, I paid a premium to rent the spot closest to the hospital.
But my husband’s first love kept begging me to let her use it on rainy days, claiming she was fragile and couldn’t handle the exposure.
I refused:
“There’s a public lot just next door, only a few steps away. Why do you need my space?”
When my husband heard this, he got angry:
“Can’t you show a little kindness? She caught a high fever from being out in the rain — it nearly killed both of them!”
I was confused:
“She has her own car, yet insisted on using my spot in the rain. Can you blame me for saying no? Besides, it’s a paid, reserved space — first come, first served.”
He went quiet. “Sorry, I was just worried.”
For months, rain or shine, he drove me everywhere.
But on the day I was due, he spent three hours driving me around, missing the best window for delivery. On the hospital’s giant screen, he clung to his first love and sneered, “Didn’t you say it’s first come, first served? Now there are no beds left. Let’s see how long you last on the waiting list.”
——
A sharp pain shot through my abdomen.
I grabbed Adrian Davenport’s arm tightly. “Hurry! Take me to the hospital!”
He shrugged off my hand, sneering, “What’s the rush? Vivian Hargrave must be suffering a hundred times worse, with her fever and rain.”
Suddenly, the car stopped.
I looked out the window — not the hospital, but a remote underground parking garage.
“Adrian, are you crazy? I’m going into labor!”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he switched on the car screen.
It wasn’t the GPS — it showed live footage of the hospital.
In the VIP delivery room I’d reserved, Vivian lay comfortably on the bed, surrounded by nurses.
“Sis, sorry,” Vivian said to the camera, tears in her eyes. “I’m in premature labor and can only use your bed. The doctor says it’s critical; I need to stay hospitalized immediately.”
My heart sank. “Did you both agree on this?”
Adrian lit a cigarette, exhaling slowly. “You said beds are first come, first served. Now, just wait here.”
My contractions worsened, sweat pouring from the pain. “Then take me to another hospital!”
“Another hospital?” Adrian laughed. “You said it yourself — I’m not paying, so why should I help?”
He turned on the AC to its coldest, blowing directly on me.
Shivering, I clutched my abdomen as pain surged. “Adrian, I’m carrying your child!”
“Really?” His eyes were icy. “Vivian said she saw you hugging another man. Whose child is it, really?”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Are you out of your mind? When did I—”
“Enough!” Adrian spun around, disgust in his eyes. “Vivian’s been sickly since childhood. You, a young woman, took her parking spot and caused her to catch a fever in the rain. Now it’s your turn to suffer.”
The car doors locked with a click.
Adrian stepped out, leaving me alone in the cold, cramped space.
My water broke.
Fluid flowed down my legs, soaking the leather seat.
On the screen, Vivian smiled triumphantly and waved.
Moments later, the car door was thrown open.
Adrian appeared with five black-clad bodyguards. “It’s too warm in here,” he said coldly, looking down at me. “How could you possibly understand the pain Vivian felt in the rain?”
My eyes widened. “Adrian, I’m giving birth! Take me to the hospital!”
