Chapter 6

The surgery was far from smooth. The impact of my fall had been severe, exacerbated by the hospital's high steps. Even before the surgery, while still pregnant, the child was already stillborn. I began hemorrhaging profusely, without so much as a cut. In the ensuing coma, I heard the doctor's panicked voice demanding a blood transfusion, only to be met with the nurse's reply that there was no blood available. For a moment, I wished for death; otherwise, I couldn't face my parents after the induced abortion. One wrong choice threatened to consume my entire youth. I don't know who the kind stranger was who donated blood, but under emergency treatment, my frigid body slowly warmed. The doctor finally exhaled, "The life is saved; let's begin the induced labor."

Soon, I was cut open, the tearing pain intense. Aurora's swollen body, resembling an inflated balloon, was horrifying. The child was finally gone. The anesthesia wore off during the stitching, and the pain rendered me unconscious. When I awoke, I was in a regular ward, the doctor observing me closely. The moment I opened my eyes, I anxiously asked, "Ms. Torres, didn't you state during the abortion scheduling that your husband had cheated and left? Then who is that man outside claiming to be your husband?"

I followed her gaze, turning sharply to see Josiah in the hallway, his eyes bloodshot.

"He lacks a marriage certificate; he's a fraud," I declared.

The doctor consulted his medical records, hesitating before stating, "But he donated a significant amount of blood for your surgery. The hospital was out of stock, and they nearly took half his blood."

"He deserved it," I retorted, "I fell down the stairs because of him."

I closed my eyes, exhaustion etched on my face, unwilling to discuss it further. The doctor, mindful of my recovery, left after I awoke, seemingly speaking to Josiah. I saw his anxious expression and heard his protracted defense before he departed.

The image of him pushing me down the stairs remained vivid; his presence now made me nauseous. Our inexplicable beginning seemed to end just as inexplicably, both disappearing from each other's lives by mutual, unspoken consent. I'd even booked a flight abroad to find my parents when he appeared at the hospital, clutching our old, worn wedding photo. After a lengthy explanation, the doctor reluctantly believed him. He brought Josiah to me, looked at me sympathetically, and left. I closed my eyes, ignoring the approaching footsteps.

Josiah stared at me, finally murmuring, "Sorry... I was too anxious. I didn't expect this. Aurora's always been frail, and I feared you'd hurt her. I couldn't explain it to my colleagues." He insisted, "I swear, I didn't see you when I rushed past; otherwise, I wouldn't have bumped into you. She's my child; I'd never harm her!"

Chapter 6 (continued)

The surgical incision throbbed intensely. Yet, despite his efforts, his first words were excuses. No one asked about my pain, my body, or the child. Looking at his serious, anxious face, I unexpectedly laughed, tears silently falling onto my collar. My heart felt icy.

Chapter 7

"Hazel, darling? What's wrong? Don't scare me!" "I'll call the doctor."

"Wait," I interrupted, startling him. "We're breaking up, Josiah. I'm tired. I can't blame you, or myself, but never appear before me again, in this life or the next."

My decisiveness surprised even myself. Our eyes met; he froze. It took him a long time to recover. A ringing phone broke the silence. He glanced at the caller ID, his expression shifting. I laughed sarcastically. "Go. I don't care who you're with."

Six years of love and marriage ended without farewell. Our hasty union mirrored our miserable separation. He expected Aurora's call to pull him away, but he hung up.

"I wronged you, but I promise it's the last time. I can explain everything to Aurora; I only see her as a sister. Sometimes, she reminds me of you, and I want to protect her."

My disdainful laughter was my response. "Josiah, I'm alive; you needn't remember me. Don't use me as an excuse for your infidelity. It's disgusting."

His anxiety grew at my firm stance. "How could you think that? I'm not that kind of person! We were together six years; I never betrayed you! Your stubbornness caused this. You could have resolved it by simply apologizing, but you escalated it. I didn't want this."

Mentally drained, I didn't bother explaining his accusations. "Believe what you want. If you think a mother shouldn't retaliate against insults, if you think I'd hurt her, then I did it. Let's go our separate ways."

He started to speak, but his phone rang again. He left, disappointed, without another word. I messaged my parents, informing them I'd join them abroad in two weeks. This time, I wouldn't return. My mother knew me well; she sensed my distress. A call came, and I wept, but didn't answer, fearing she'd hear my condition. After multiple attempts, she gave up. I pretended to have just checked my phone. "I was eating; sorry I missed it. I missed you both. Family is important. Josiah and I...were wrong."

After confirming travel plans, they said they'd pick me up. Warmth filled my heart, dispelling the ward's desolation. The nurse, changing my medicine, curiously asked, "Ms. Torres, what was your relationship with Mr. Gilbert? He had your wedding photo and was always attending to another woman."

"A colleague, don't take those modeling photos seriously," I lied, clinging to a shred of self-respect. The lie froze me. "I don't know him; maybe he's mentally ill."