For the first time, a strange expression crossed his face.
It wasn’t joy. It wasn’t a surprise.
It was something… calculated.
Without saying another word, he took out a sheet of paper and a pen and began scribbling numbers, his brow furrowing as if he was doing a budget report instead of reacting to a baby.
“I looked it up, Grace,” he stated plainly. “From prenatal checkups to delivery, the full package at a public hospital is about $15,000. For the postpartum care center, the mid-range cost is $30,000 a month. Formula, diapers, and other baby supplies are at least $20,000 in the first year. These are all shared expenses, so we’ll have to split them evenly.”
When he finished, he slid the paper covered in figures over to me.
“So, all in all, the total is $65,000. Your share is $32,500. My suggestion is that you start saving now.”
I stared at the paper, and a wave of dizziness washed over me, as if the floor had quietly shifted.
“Evan, am I having this child all by myself?” I asked quietly.
“You can’t put it like that,” he replied. “You’re the one who’s pregnant, but fertilization was on me. Half and half. Very fair.”
Somehow, Patricia had already heard I was pregnant, and she made a special trip over.
The moment Evan's mother walked in, she didn’t ask how I was feeling. Instead, she grabbed Evan by the arm and dragged him into the bedroom.
Through the door, I could just make out her voice.
"Evan, you shouldn’t go soft on your wife. Having children is a woman’s duty. Why should our family be the one paying for it? Make her pay. Otherwise, once this child is born, it has nothing to do with us."
After a while, Evan came out of the room.
He was holding a new agreement:
[Split-Everything Agreement for Pregnancy and Child-Rearing Expenses]
Then, he set it down in front of me.
“Sign it,” he said. “It’ll prevent disputes later.”
My hands were shaking.
“And if I don’t sign?” I asked, my voice barely steady.
“Then I suggest you don’t keep this child.” His voice was ice-cold, stripped of any emotion. “I’m not going to shoulder a debt that doesn’t belong to me, Grace.”
I looked at him—the man I’d loved for three years—and at that moment, he was so unfamiliar that it genuinely frightened me.
“Evan, do you even have a heart?” I whispered.
Patricia chimed in from the side, her tone sharp and impatient. “Why bother explaining so much to her? She just wants to cling to our family. I’m telling you, if she won’t sign, then she can hurry up and get it aborted. The Haywood family doesn’t support freeloaders, and we definitely don’t raise money-sucking burdens.”
I was trembling with anger now, my finger stabbing toward the door.
“Get out. Both of you," I finally snapped.
Evan frowned.
“How can you talk to my mother like that?” he demanded. “She’s your elder.”
I let out a bitter, shaky laugh as tears spilled down my cheeks.
“An elder?” I said, my voice breaking. “What kind of elder forces her own daughter-in-law to abort her child?”
I turned my gaze on Evan, my eyes burning. “Evan, how did I never see before what a piece of trash you are?”
His face darkened.
“I’m just following the rules. You’re the one being unreasonable. Since you’re so worked up, there’s nothing more to discuss.”
With that, he yanked Patricia by the arm and slammed the door on his way out.
That night, I received a message from him:
[Think it over. Either sign the agreement, or go to the hospital, Grace. I’ll give you three days to decide.]
I lay in bed, resting my hand on my still-flat belly.
There was a tiny life in there.
My child.
I couldn’t give him up.
...
Three days later, I called Evan.
“I’ll sign,” I said.
On the other end of the line, he sounded like he had finally let out a breath.
“That’s better. Don’t worry, I’ll fulfill my responsibilities as a father, too. For example, I’ll be responsible for providing the other half of the genes.”
I hung up and then slumped over the toilet, vomiting until everything blurred.
Throughout my pregnancy, including prenatal visits, morning sickness, and commuting to and from work, I was always alone.
Evan, on the other hand, got out of work on time every single day.
