I Lost Our Baby While He Comforted Her

1: 1

The night the typhoon made landfall, I stood outside the office building for half an hour. The ride app still showed ninety-nine people in line ahead of me.

I hesitated a moment, then called my boyfriend.

Could you swing by and pick me up on your way?

The rain's too heavy. I really can't get a ride.

Samuel James was quiet for two seconds, and when he spoke, his voice was calm to the point of coldness.

"You're right, it is on my way, but I can't come get you."

"If I help you today, then next time you hit trouble, you'll think you can always count on me to catch you."

"Aren't you always saying you're a modern, independent woman?"

"Then learn to solve your own problems."

The call ended right after.

Ten minutes later, his car drove past me. It didn't slow down at all.

Rain slammed against my phone screen just as Lavinia Swanson posted something new.

All because I didn't feel like squeezing onto the subway, a certain someone drove halfway across the city to pick me up.

The feeling of always having someone to catch you. It's really nice.

In the corner of the photo, a hand rested on the steering wheel.

The watch on that wrist was the one I'd bought Samuel with three months of saved salary.

A moment later, his message came through:

You're not still standing there waiting for me, are you?

I opened my email and accepted the company's invitation to the overseas assignment. Then I replied, calmly:

Not waiting anymore.

Not just tonight.

For the rest of my life, I would never wait for him again.

I switched subways twice, then walked more than twenty minutes in the rain. By the time I got home, I was soaked through.

Samuel froze for a second, then picked up a towel and dried my hair.

The familiar motion softened, for one instant, a heart I'd thought was already dead.

He poured me hot water, then took out his phone.

"I bought you an umbrella. It'll be delivered to your office tomorrow, so you don't keep forgetting to bring one."

I'd barely felt the first flicker of warmth when he added, offhand:

"Lavinia reminded me, actually."

"She said you always forget to check the weather. That way you won't get stuck at the office again next time."

So even this bit of late concern hadn't come from him at all.

I suddenly thought of a rainstorm back in college.

That day he'd crossed half the campus to come get me, tilting the umbrella toward me the whole way.

By the time we reached my dorm, not a single drop had touched me, but half of his body was already soaked.

Aching for him, I scolded him for coming out when there was no need.

Samuel just lowered his head and kissed my forehead.

"That you can get home on your own is your strength."

"But I can't stand to see you rained on. That's on me."

After that, whenever it rained, he'd be waiting outside my classroom building ahead of time.

Back then I never could have imagined that one day he would pass right by me and not stop for even a minute.

After graduation, Samuel started his own company. At the busiest times he slept only four or five hours a night.

I couldn't bear to make him run back and forth for me, so I always said with a smile, "I'm a modern, independent woman. I can get myself home."

He held me tight, guilty.

"Once the company's stable, I'll make up for all the time I owe you."

Later he had money, he had a car, and finally he had time too.

Except all that time went to Lavinia Swanson.

When someone was following me, he texted me the police number and told me to call it myself.

When Lavinia's phone died, he searched the mall for her for two hours.

When my stomach hurt in the middle of the night, he transferred me five hundred and told me to go to the hospital on my own.

When Lavinia was just scared of getting a shot, he canceled his meetings and spent a whole afternoon with her while she had her IV.

He said I was different from Lavinia. I was independent, I could handle things myself when something happened.

I used to think that was his way of respecting me.

Only now do I understand that this so-called independence was just his most convenient excuse whenever he didn't want to take care of me.

2: 2

I brushed his hand away and asked, my voice flat,

"If you could drive halfway across the city for Lavinia, why couldn't you stop for one minute on your way?"

Samuel went still.

"You're still hung up on this?"

"You're the one who said you didn't need a man driving you around."

"So I did what you wanted, and now you're unhappy about it?"

I lifted my head and looked at him.

"Back then you'd just started your company. I didn't want to be a burden."

"So the fact that I was considerate then is now proof that I don't deserve to be taken care of? Is that it?"

The patience on his face thinned.

"Why do you always love making yourself out to be so pitiful?"

"You can't enjoy the reputation of an independent woman and expect a man at your beck and call at the same time."

"It just makes you look fake."

I stared at him.

So the words I'd once said to protect his pride,

had all turned into knives pointed at me now.

My throat began to itch.

I turned my head away and coughed a few times, cold washing through me in waves.

Samuel reached out and felt my forehead.

"You've got a bit of a fever."

He dug the fever pills out of the medicine box, set them on the table, then went to the bedroom and brought back a blanket.

"Take the pills first."

He said it so naturally.

As if the argument just now had never happened.

I looked at that box of pills, and my chest ached again, in spite of everything.

Maybe he did still have some feeling for me.

Maybe we'd just been together so long that he'd forgotten how to show it.

But before I could say anything, Samuel's phone rang.

Lavinia's voice came through the receiver, thick with tears.

"Samuel, the power just went out at my place. I'm scared."

Samuel stood up at once.

"Lock the door. I'm on my way."

He hung up and picked up the car keys he'd set down only minutes ago.

Wrapped in the blanket on the couch, I asked softly,

"I have a fever. You're not going to stay and take care of me?"

Samuel's steps paused for a moment.

"The pills are on the table."

"You know how many to take, and you can look after yourself."

"Lavinia's different. She's been afraid of thunder since she was little. She can't be alone."

Before he walked out, as if afraid I'd keep making a fuss, he softened his tone.

"You've always been stronger than her."

"Don't fight her over something like this."

The door closed in front of me.

All that was left in the apartment was the sound of the typhoon slamming against the glass.

I looked at the fever pills on the table, and suddenly I laughed.

Stronger than Lavinia. Where.

It was only that after every time I asked for help and got turned down, I'd had no choice but to force myself to learn to hold on.

My phone buzzed. The umbrella had shipped.

Right after it, the company's confirmation email for my transfer paperwork came through.

I opened my inbox, finished the last confirmation, and my flight was set for three days later.

Back then, when I said I could take care of myself, it was only because I couldn't bear to burden Samuel.

From now on,

I really didn't need him anymore.

3: 3

The next afternoon, Lavinia showed up at our door dragging a suitcase.

She said that ever since her promotion, jealous coworkers had been harassing hersomeone had thrown red paint on her door for days, and last night her windows had been smashed.

Samuel told her to move in on the spot.

I looked at the luggage being set down in the guest room and asked him, "Can't she just stay at a hotel?"

"Someone's watching her right now. Hotels are full of strangers. It's not safe."

"Our building has good security. Here is the best place for her."

Before I could say anything, Lavinia clutched the hem of her shirt, looking anxious.

"It's fine, Samuel."

"Veronica already doesn't like me. If I move in, seeing me every day will only make her angrier."

"I should just go home. Worst case, I won't sleep tonight."

She turned as if to leave, and Samuel immediately stopped her.

"This is my home. I decide who stays here."

Then he turned to look at me.

"I'll book you a hotel nearby for a week."

"Once Lavinia's new place is sorted out, you can come back."

I thought I'd misheard.

"You're throwing me out of my own home for her?"

Samuel's brow furrowed.

"It's just a few days. Don't make it sound so ugly."

"You can take care of yourself in a hotel on your own."

"Lavinia just had a scare. She's unstable right now. She can't be left alone."

Again.

Because I could take care of myself, even the home we'd shared for five years was something I should hand over to Lavinia first.

I didn't move.

"I'm not leaving."

The last of Samuel's patience burned out.

He walked straight into the bedroom, opened the closet, and started stuffing my clothes into a suitcase one piece at a time.

I rushed over and pressed my hands down on the case.

"Samuel, this is my home."

"I paid for half the renovation and the furniture. What gives you the right to throw me out?"

His hands paused, but his voice only went colder.

"The fact that the house is in my name."

"Veronica, someone's personal safety is being threatened, and you're still standing here arguing over who chipped in a few thousand dollars for renovations."

"When did you become this selfish?"

The words hit me like a bucket of ice water poured from head to foot.

Back when his startup was short on money, I emptied my entire savings to renovate this place.

Samuel had held my hand and told me it didn't matter whose name was on the deedthis would always be our home.

Now, with one line about the house being in his name, he turned me into a guest without a second thought.

Lavinia stood outside the door, eyes red, pleading, "Veronica, don't fight with Samuel."

"How about I go to a hotel instead, and you stay."

The moment she finished speaking, a heavy thud came from the stairwell.

Lavinia shrieked in fright, crouching down and covering her head.

"Is it him? Did he follow me here?"

"Samuel, I'm scared!"

Samuel instantly dropped the luggage and went to steady her.

Outside, it was just a neighbor who'd dropped a cardboard box while moving.

But Lavinia kept trembling, clinging to the front of his shirt, saying she wouldn't dare stay as long as I was here.

When Samuel looked at me again, there was nothing left in his eyes but impatience.

"The hotel and the car are both arranged."

"Don't make me call building management up to escort you out."

He pushed the suitcase out the door, then took my coat and bag from the shoe cabinet.

I blocked the doorway, refusing to let him close the door.

"Samuel, if I walk out that door today, we're really over."

His gaze flickered.

But behind him, Lavinia called his name again, her voice breaking into sobs.

In the end, Samuel pried my fingers off the doorframe.

"You're worked up right now."

"Once you calm down, you'll understand I'm saving someone, not choosing between the two of you."

The door was shoved open hard.

I lost my footing and fell backward down the two steps outside the door.

My lower abdomen slammed into the metal corner of the suitcase.

The instant the pain hit, my vision went black, and for a long moment I couldn't get up.

Samuel took a reflexive step forward.

"Veronica?"

I thought he would finally come to help me up.

But Lavinia suddenly cried out from inside, saying she couldn't breathe.

He glanced back, then immediately turned and walked toward her.

"It's only two steps. Get up on your own."

"The car's downstairs. Stop wasting time."

The door closed in front of me.

A moment later, the electronic lock beeped as its passcode was being reset.

Clutching my throbbing abdomen, I braced against the wall and pushed myself up, inch by inch.

It wasn't until I was in the car to the hotel that I noticed a small patch of blood had already seeped through the hem of my dress.

4: 4

I had the driver turn around and take me to the hospital.

In the exam room, the doctor stared at the screen for a long time, then let out a soft sigh.

"Seven weeks pregnant."

"The fall caused bleeding. The embryo isn't in good shape either. It can't be saved."

I stared blankly at that blurry image.

So before I ever decided to leave, a child had quietly taken root inside me.

I never even had the chance to know he existed.

And already I had lost him.

The nurse handed me a surgical consent form.

"Let's do the D&C as soon as possible."

"It's best to have a family member come sign. Where's the baby's father?"

I held my phone, silent for a long time, then dialed Samuel James's number anyway.

He picked up only on the third ring.

Lavinia Swanson's weak voice drifted through the receiver, saying her chest still didn't feel right.

Samuel was coaxing her to take her medicine.

My throat went tight.

"Samuel, I'm at the hospital."

"That fall earlier made me miscarry."

"The doctor needs to operate, and it needs a family member to sign."

The line went quiet for a beat.

Then he laughed, cold and short.

"Veronica Henson, you'll make up something like a miscarriage just to get me to throw Lavinia out?"

"You only fell down two steps. Weren't you standing there just fine afterward?"

"Using something like this to fight for attention. Don't you think it's bad luck?"

I gripped the exam results hard.

"I'm not lying to you."

I took photos of the ultrasound and the diagnosis and sent them to him.

The message showed as delivered, but he wouldn't even open it to look.

"Enough."

"Lavinia's being stalked, and just now you scared her into another attack. Can't you be considerate for once?"

"Aren't you an independent woman?"

"If it really needs a signature, can't you sign it yourself?"

"Stop expecting me to drop everything and come coax you at every little thing."

The call cut off.

The nurse stood beside me, the pity in her eyes almost impossible to hide.

"Do you want to try reaching another family member?"

I lowered my head and, in the line for the family member's signature, wrote out my own name, stroke by stroke.

"No need."

"I don't have any family."

When the cold instruments went into my body, I didn't cry.

I just looked up at the surgical light and thought of that downpour back in college.

Samuel had tilted the whole umbrella toward me, letting half of himself get soaked rather than let me catch a chill.

Back then he said, as long as I needed him, he would always show up.

But now, I lay on an operating table losing our child.

While he stayed by another woman, mocking me for using a miscarriage to fight for attention.

After the surgery, I stayed alone in the hospital for two nights.

Samuel didn't call again, not once.

He must have decided that if he just refused to play along, this attention-grabbing act of mine would end on its own.

The day I was discharged was also the day I left.

I went to get the documents I'd left at the house, only to find the door lock's code had already been changed.

I rang the bell for a long time.

The one who finally answered was Samuel, his voice impatient.

"Now what?"

"My passport's still inside."

"Have Lavinia bring it out for me. I'm leaving tonight."

He was silent for two seconds.

"You're still threatening me?"

"Veronica Henson, you've been making a scene for three days. That should be enough."

I looked at the tightly shut door.

"I'm not making a scene."

"I only came to get my own things."

Samuel seemed enraged by how calm I was, his tone turning cold all at once.

"Fine. If you want to go, go."

"But if you leave today, then never come back."

"I won't coax you the way I used to anymore."

A few minutes later, building management brought down a paper bag holding my passport and documents.

From start to finish, Samuel never once opened the door to look at me.

I held the paper bag and stood for a long time in front of that door we'd lived behind for five years.

Then I said, softly: "All right."

Two hours later, I boarded a flight overseas.

As the plane climbed into the clouds, I took out my SIM card and dropped it into the cleaning bag on the seatback in front of me.

The familiar city shrank fast into a blur of lights.

No one could have guessed.

That line of Samuel's, never come back.

In the end, it would come true.