I should have realized long ago that Yvonne was the one he truly cherished, the one he feared might feel pain, suffer grievances, or experience discomfort.
As for me, I was nothing more than someone insignificant.
I could endure everything in the past, turning a blind eye to it all. But now, the pain of contractions, the aching in my lower abdomen and the sound of a baby crying from the neighboring ward all told me.
“Ziva, it’s because you’re so weak and you kept giving him the chance to hurt you again and again, that you caused the death of your own child!’ I cursed at myself
I endured the pain, tears welling up in my eyes and dialed the lawyer's number. "Mr. Scott, help me draft a divorce agreement. I want a divorce."
On the third day after the baby’s death, Aaron finally rushed over.
He was still wearing the same clothes from Yvonne’s social media post and I could faintly smell the perfume on him.
"Ziva, why did you make so many calls? Is something wrong?"
Aaron approached, his hand reaching for mine, his expression clearly showing an unspoken sense of guilt.
"I was busy preparing materials for the surgery meeting on my side and didn’t see your calls."
Before the surgery, both the hospital and I had called countless times, but none of the calls were answered.
Clearly, as a doctor, Aaron never turned off or silenced his phone.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t received my calls, it was that he was too busy attending to Yvonne to care about me.
The young nurse who was changing my IV leaned forward, her lips trembling as if she wanted to say something, but I quickly grabbed her hand before she could speak.
"It’s nothing, just that my water broke and I was urgently admitted to the hospital."
I nodded at the nurse, signaling her not to speak of it.
After all, the baby was already gone. It was better to just let him be with his junior, Yvonne.
As the head of the obstetrics department, Aaron naturally knew that a broken amniotic sac was no small matter.
The guilt on his face grew heavier and he awkwardly asked, "Is our baby alright?"
I silently smiled, watching the leaves fall slowly outside the window.
For a long time, Aaron had always been like this.
Whenever I needed him, he was never there and only afterward would he come to offer a few comforting words.
In the past, I could deceive myself into thinking he still cared about me.
But now, the baby was gone.
When my child was gone, he was out with Yvonne, praying for blessings. I could no longer deceive myself.
"The baby is alright."
Upon hearing my answer, Aaron’s expression finally relaxed a bit.
"Then rest well. If you want anything to eat, I’ll go make it for you."
I remained indifferent, offering no reaction.
Aaron sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling me into his arms. "Ziva, you know that Yvonne is my junior. She’s very anxious since she just got pregnant and she’s alone, so I took her to pray for blessings."
I listened to his explanation, recalling when I was seven months pregnant. My body was overwhelmed by pregnancy discomfort, leaving me sleepless for nights on end, yet I never saw him pray for our child.
Indeed, love and indifference were so unmistakably clear.
I lowered my eyelids and my heart was filled with an endless bitterness and sorrow.
Seeing that I didn’t respond, Aaron assumed he had convinced me and continued, "You’re also pregnant, so you must understand Yvonne’s feelings, right?"
"Yes, I understand." I nodded, turning my head to wipe away the cold tears on my cheek.
"In the early stages of my pregnancy, I also couldn’t eat anything because of the pregnancy symptoms. I’m fine here. You can go take care of her. There’s no need to stay by my side."
There was a hint of despair and a touch of childish defiance in those words.
A faint glimmer of hope lingered in my heart, as if I was still waiting for him to react in some way.
But Aaron simply stood up from the bedside, gently patted my head and his face was full of joy.
