I have always loved my husband until this very moment that I'm soaking my pillow with tears and phlegm. I have shown kindness and submissiveness to him but he still treats me with levity. For a good four years, I was loyal and patient with him. I hoped that if I persevered with him, he would soften towards me.
“Why does it hurt so much?” I held my aching stomach. The doctor says the pain will cease and that I have to endure it but it has been two days already but it still hurts. Both my tummy and my chest. I reached for the paper beside me and ruffled it on my chest. It's my pregnancy test results. It is positive. I was happy when I heard that I was going to give birth to my baby. I was pregnant by Brandon Stephen, my husband. But my happiness was cut short when the doctor told me that I was drugged which led to a heavy bleeding and I eventually lost the baby and I also lost seventy percent of my womb’s chance of accommodating another baby. That means I might never get pregnant again.
It is him. It is Brad. I could remember vividly when I told him I was pregnant. He was happy even though I feared he was going to be angry but he was happy and that allayed my fears. He proposed we toast to the good news. I remember drinking his favorite wine and when I retired to my bed that night, blood was gushing down my thighs. I called his phone for hours but he didn't pick up. I shouted and called for help, but even though my husband's room was just opposite mine, he didn't come to rescue me. I passed out on the cold marble floor and woke up in the hospital to the news that the little one growing inside of me was gone. Brad Steph was nowhere beside me.
“Jemma” I heard his voice. Before now, I would have jumped off the bed in excitement and rushed into his cold arms but I just sat on my bed, expecting his entrance and glaring at the door as if to yank it off its post. “Jemma. Where's my breakfast?” He barged into my room. Yes, my room was always open to him and I loved it but I'm only seeing how rude and intrusive that single act is.
“You have no fingers to knock?” I asked instead.
He was caught off guard by my question or maybe it's from my menacing tone. I haven't used that voice to speak to anyone in years. Brad tamed the feisty and outspoken me.
He ignored my question and insisted I answer him.
“Well, I'm not your maid” I stated with a tone of finality and stood up from the bed. Despite my seemingly defiant nature. My heart was beating fast. I once loved this man. What if he didn't drug me and I'm just accusing him wrongly? What if he didn't see my calls because his phones were not within his reach? What if he couldn't come to the hospital because he had an accident. Different thoughts ran through my mind.
“You've always served me…”
I cut him off. “. . . Breakfast since I married you” I mimicked and put on my flip flops.
“Where were you two nights ago?” I asked him. “I was home” He shrugged nonchalantly.
“You heard me shout for help when I was bleeding. I passed out in my own blood and you took me to the hospital. You couldn't even wait to see how I was doing? Not even a call?” I peered into his eyes. For one reason that I couldn't place a thought on, I want him to make up an excuse to convince me. To tell me I got it all wrong and it was just my wild imagination. He heaves. “Yes”
“Yes?” The flickering light of hope in me quenched that instant. He just confirmed killing my baby. He just admitted that he left intentionally. Everything was intentional. “You killed my baby” I lost it and yelled like a mad woman. My entire being that has been on hold under this indifferent man finally let loose. His face was contorted in bewilderment. I had never shouted at him in our four years of hellish marriage. Not even when he tried so hard to provoke me. I endured it all.
“It was just clumps of blood, Jemma” He said. My head sparked a thousand flames in just that second. “My baby? You murderer!”
“Stop being delusional!” He yelled at me and I was still in shock. “Stop acting like the victim. Do you want to give birth to a child and make the innocent one suffer?” Suffer? Brad Stephen is one of the wealthiest billionaires in the whole country and he's talking about suffering. He'd better say something more convincing.
“I never loved you. You yourself know that this whole marriage is a sham. Why are you saving something that does not exist?” He groaned.
“Why did you marry me? Why didn't you let me know?” My whole world crashed before me. I thought Brad was just among the people that find it hard to express loving emotions. Even his mother told me that that is his nature and behind all that stoic and nonchalant act is a Brad Stephen who loves me to the moon and back but now he's speaking for himself. A story different from the one I heard from his mother. “It's because you were available and mother said I must get married in order to get my inheritance. I thought you were going to leave after a few months if I showed you that I don't care but you stayed. Mother can't hear that I filed for a divorce first” He blurted.
His “I was available” statement rang in my head. My legs wobbled and shook under pressure. I held the head board and looked at the shiny marble floor with misty eyes. The floors that I cherish have turned to one I wish I never stepped foot on. “I want a divorce” I muttered. There's no going back. I can't stay here anymore.
“Good” I watched him fetch his phone from his pocket in a frenzy. For the first time since we got married, I saw him smile. He smiled to the sound of divorce. “I will call the lawyer to bring the papers now” He said. The divorce papers have always been ready. I was just the only one that was blind to see that I just needed to say the word.
“Babe… we are free from her, right?” I heard a shrill voice from the entrance of my room.
