Chapter 3
Aurora reached out and gently tugged at his sleeve. Watching them interact as if alone in the world, I left the ward without looking back. The moment he left, he hurled the kettle from the ward behind me.
“You never come back again if you have that kind of attitude!” he shouted. “You, such a selfish and narrow-minded woman, were never fit to be a mother!”
Tears welled in my eyes as mocking laughter from passersby reached my ears. I hurried away. Two minutes after leaving the hospital, a blizzard engulfed me. My thin pajamas offered little protection against the intense cold, and I shivered uncontrollably. I couldn't catch a taxi so late at night. I could only walk the five kilometers back to my parents' former house.
Six years had passed since I last entered that room; dust coated everything. After tidying, I collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. Opening my phone to book my post-surgery flight, I saw Aurora's status update, posted only two minutes prior. The location tag indicated our old neighborhood.
The photo showed a man in an apron, preparing ginger soup. Steam from the pot blurred the lens. The caption read: "The highest level of love is to feel heartache. A cup of ginger soup on a winter night is worth more than all the sweet words in the world. Thank you for giving me your exclusive tenderness."
Within two minutes, hundreds of likes accumulated, mostly from Josiah's company employees. We lacked a marriage certificate, a wedding. Except for a few top executives, no one at the company knew he was married. The comments section buzzed with shippers.
"Is this still the same iceberg boss? It has to be Aurora's charm! Even the big boss can be gentle and obedient to her!" one comment read. Another chimed in, "What? Aurora? Seems like a change of tune is in order. She's about to become the president's wife!" A third exclaimed, "Congratulations in advance! When you get married, don't forget about us. Let Mr. Gilbert give us two extra days off!"
Josiah saw the post, yet offered no defense. His silent acquiescence rendered my role as his wife a cruel joke.
All the understanding and compromises of the past six years felt incredibly cheap in that moment. I chuckled wryly at myself, switched off my phone, and forced myself to rest.
I was bombarded with messages from Josiah until noon the next day.
“How long are you going to keep causing trouble? Can’t you consider the children?”
“You are about to become a mother soon, can you please change your temper?”
“Aurora spent the whole night talking nicely about you to me and even invited you to a musical. Take this opportunity to apologize to her and stop getting into arguments so easily in the future!”
His condescending tone implied disobedience on my part. Exhausted, I decided to speak with him. He revealed the location of the musical theater. After a quick wash, I took a taxi. My swelling had worsened due to lack of sleep.
When he saw me, his face darkened; disgust filled his eyes.
“Don’t you know that you couldn’t tidy yourself up before going out?” he sneered. “Last night everyone was laughing at you, and today you still dressed like this. Did you have to slap my face?”
I desperately wanted to avoid a public argument. “Josiah, I look like this because I am pregnant with your child,” I explained. “Before getting pregnant, I was also a girl who loved beauty.”
The unspoken blame choked him, neither escaping nor settling.