Chapter 4

The screen showed "My Husband."

I pressed the answer button but didn't speak immediately.

Loud cheers and clinking glasses came from the other end.

Owen's voice held a hint of impatience.

"Karen, how long are you going to keep this up?"

"You don't reply to my messages, and you won't answer my calls."

"It's Eve's birthday, the whole project team is here. Is it appropriate for me not to show up?"

He paused, his tone softening slightly, adopting his usual coaxing manner.

"I know it was wrong of me not to answer your call last night."

"But you're an adult. Don't always act like a little girl, being passive-aggressive."

"How about this? Tomorrow, I'll cancel my morning meeting and specifically go to your prenatal check-up with you, okay?"

Listening to his matter-of-fact arrangements, I found it absurd.

"Tomorrow, he'll accompany me to my prenatal check-up."

He had no idea that the child he thought still needed prenatal check-ups was currently fighting for its life in the emergency room just through that wall.

I looked at the closed emergency room door, my voice very soft.

"Owen."

"What if something really happened to me last night?"

The other end of the line went silent for a moment.

The background noise seemed to fade a little; he must have stepped outside the private room.

"What are you talking about?"

His tone was clearly reproachful.

"You're pregnant, can you stop trying to scare me with talk like that?"

"So I didn't answer your call? Do you really have to bring yourself into it?"

"The baby still has two months until birth, we have time to prepare everything."

"You're being so sensitive and paranoid right now, it's really giving me a headache."

Suddenly, I felt incredibly tired.

I didn't even have the energy to argue back.

He attributed all his screw-ups and absences to my "pregnancy sensitivity."

He used his supposed logic to shut down my pleas for help completely.

"Okay."

I responded calmly.

"I'm not going to cause trouble anymore."

Owen seemed to let out a sigh of relief.

"That's right. You stay home and get some good rest."

"I'll bring dessert back later."

The call disconnected.

I tapped his profile picture and went into settings.

I changed his contact name from "My Husband" to "Owen."

Then I opened the hospital app and, on the emergency contact page for the delivery room, I completely deleted his name.

Brenda watched my actions, hesitant to speak.

"Karen, are you really not going to tell him?"

"He is the baby's biological father, after all."

I looked at Eve's latest SnapChat story.

She had posted a photo of herself holding a cake, with Owen's profile partially visible in the background.

The caption read: "Thanks, Owen! Wish granted."

I closed SnapChat, opened my contacts, and dialed a number.

"John, my lawyer, it's me."

"Please draft a divorce settlement agreement for me."

"As quickly as possible."

"You're pregnant, running off to the hospital without telling me?"

Owen's voice echoed down the outpatient clinic hallway.

I was leaning against the wall, about to go to the front desk to pay the past two days' hospital fees.

The oversized hospital gown made me look pale and weak.

I stopped and turned to the source of the voice.

Owen, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, looked at me with a frown.

His right arm was tightly linked with Eve's.

Eve was standing on one foot, leaning most of her weight against him.

She was wearing a white dress today, the hem just reaching her knees, revealing a small red and swollen area on her ankle.

"Karen, why are you at the hospital?"