Looking at those lines of text, I kept a blank face and sent nothing back.
Once the screen went dark, I didn’t feel even the smallest shift inside.
Zion had always been like this, liking to watch me get jealous, lose control, break down because of him, then be pushed to lower my head and give in because I loved him.
But I was truly worn out.
So drained that I didn’t even have the energy to argue with him anymore.
Grandma Ravenna said to give her a week, and she would settle everything.
I didn’t have to do anything, just quietly wait for the week to end, and I would finally be free.
The next morning, when I woke up, there was a familiar presence beside me.
I didn’t know when Zion had come back. He leaned against the headboard, his fingertips lightly playing with my loose strands of hair in a distracted way.
His other hand rested on my swollen belly, his head lowered, as if he were truly listening to something.
“The baby is moving.”
He smiled at me. “Wife, he’s scratching me.”
As if responding to his words, a clear small movement pressed against his palm, tiny but sure.
My heart suddenly ached sharply, but I didn’t move away.
Zion had always been like this.
No matter how wildly he fooled around outside, whenever he returned to me, he acted like the gentle, patient husband, the father waiting for his baby to come.
He would soothe me softly, pull the blanket over me, and when my emotions slipped, he would repeat over and over, “Wife, I’ll fix myself,” “Don’t cry, alright?”
As long as I ignored the dirty things he did outside, we could still keep a marriage that looked warm and proper.
But I couldn’t keep doing that, and that was why I chose to walk away.
“Sit up and eat a little.”
Zion leaned down and kissed my forehead.
“After we eat, I’ll drive you to the hospital for the checkup. Isn’t your appointment today?”
At the dining table, while he watched me drink milk, Zion suddenly chuckled, with a hint of testing in his voice.
“Wife, I thought you would call me last night crying, just like when you used to catch me cheating, calling nonstop until I picked up.”
“What happened, little crybaby suddenly switched personality? You really don’t care anymore?”
I held the cup without raising my head.
“Isn’t this exactly what you’ve been hoping for?”
My voice stayed even. “A quiet, obedient Mrs. Payne who acts like nothing ever happened.”
Zion clearly stopped, as if my words caught him off guard.
Then he reached out and brushed my hair, like calming a small pet that had finally stopped resisting.
“It’s good you understand now. Men like us, how could we not have social situations to deal with?”
“Wife, relax. No matter what, you will always be the only woman I marry. The ones outside are just passing shadows.”
Passing shadows.
Those simple words landed lightly, soft and weightless, yet hard to breathe through.
I suddenly thought back to many years ago.
When Zion confessed to me, he had promised that in this life, he would only love me, stay true to me, and never turn his back on me.
So promises really do wear away. To the point where even he no longer trusted his own.
My nails pressed into my palm, the small pain spreading slowly, barely keeping me alert.
“Let’s go.”
I got up, cutting off Zion.
During the drive to the hospital, the car stayed quiet.
In the past, I would speak happily at times like this, chatting about the baby.
Only when the topic was the baby did I feel that Zion still cared about me, still cared about this family.
But now, I didn’t want to keep pretending anymore.
And even though Zion looked at me several times through the rearview mirror, he didn’t say a word.
Right before we reached the hospital, Zion’s phone rang.
The voice on the other end sounded upset, saying something about “causing trouble at the house,” “pulling someone away,” and “forcing her to marry an old man.”
Zion’s face didn’t change at all.
“That’s her family’s issue. What does that have to do with me? Didn’t I tell you, when I’m with my wife, don’t bring me anything else?”
He ended the call right away.
A moment later, Zion parked the car at the hospital entrance, put his hand on my belly, and spoke softly, “Baby, we’re at the hospital.”
I thought Zion might still have a bit of conscience left.
But after I took my number and turned back around, I saw the seat beside me was already empty.
Zion’s reply showed up quickly.
[Something happened.]
[The day after tomorrow is your mom’s death anniversary. I will come back for you and the baby.]
[Do your checkup alone today.]
I laughed mockingly, finished all the examinations by myself, and sat quietly in the hallway waiting for the results.
On Instagram, that esports girl streamer posted a new picture.
The restaurant lighting was soft and close. The Zion who should have been sitting beside me at the hospital was sitting across from her, looking focused.
The caption under it read, [Thanks to Brother Zion, I wasn’t dragged off by my own mom to marry an old guy. I’ll love him forever and stay with him.]
My throat tightened. I bit the inside of my cheek, placed a hand on my belly, and slowly rubbed it.
“Baby.”
I asked calmly, “If one day Daddy and Mommy get a divorce… will you blame Mommy?”
