Mrs. Aldrich had trimmed it neatly; otherwise, it would have been unbearable.
Zoe, drowsy, remained unmoved by his questioning.
Thick curtains blocked out the light, casting the room in darkness.
"Why aren't you speaking? Say something!" Evan pulled her up, his tone displeased.
Her empty stare caught him off guard.
"Speak."
Zoe lowered her eyelids, allowing him to pull her along.
Evan's tone grew harsher, ""Did you lose your voice? Speak!"
Was she ignoring him?
For the past month, her stomach had been aching, and his pulling made her uncomfortable in this position.
Expressionless, Zoe stabilized herself and pushed him away.
That same scent was smell again.
Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit her unannounced. She collapsed onto the bed, eyes shutting.
Evan roared angrily, "What's the meaning of this? Ignoring me?"
Suppressing his anger, he answered the vibrating phone and left.
She dreamed, a dream where he was gentle, impossibly gentle throughout.
Claire and Jocelyn sat together.
"Your womb is blessed, I'm sure you'll give me several grandchildren."
Jocelyn smiled brightly, holding Claire's hand and calling her 'Mom' familiarly.
Before Claire could respond, she spotted Evan outside the window.
"Mom, what's the matter?"
They exchanged glances. Claire got straight to the point, "Evan , divorce Zoe after she gives birth and marry Jocelyn. She's a good girl."
Evan's face darkened, "I said, I won't divorce."
Jocelyn's expression changed drastically. If he didn't divorce, what did that make her? What about her child?
"Don't you love Zoe anymore?"
These words irked him further, "Mom, don't meddle with us. I'll handle it."
"If you don't love her, let her go. Wouldn't it be best for both of you to remarry?"
Remarry? Let Zoe marry another man? Impossible.
Evan emphasized, "Mom, I said leave it, okay?"
Claire wanted to say more, but Jocelyn tugged her sleeve.
Enough said.
He had business to attend to and left.
Jocelyn watched him go, a vicious idea germinating in her mind...
A smile curled on her lips.
...
Mrs. Aldrich prepared dinner and went to call Zoe, who showed no sign of stirring, deeply asleep.
Pregnant women were prone to drowsiness. She didn't insist, figuring Zoe would eat when she woke up hungry.
Zoe stirred awake, lost in thought for a while.
The next evening, Evan returned with a bowl of porridge for her. After freshening up, he went to bed, exhausted from work.
Zoe's appetite had been poor, often skipping meals or barely eating a few bites.
This porridge sparked a desire to eat.
It tasted alright, but it wasn't quite up to the standard of an authentic porridge shop.
Halfway through, she couldn't continue.
Snoring sounded, and Zoe glanced over, her eyes emotionless, before climbing into bed.
Pain, overwhelming pain.
She felt wetness and pain from below, throwing off the covers.
A horrifying red greeted her eyes.
She got off the bed, her pajama pants stained red.
Losing balance, she fell to the floor, the pain intensifying.
Sunlight seeped through the curtains onto her pale face.
Evan, reviewing documents, felt a dull ache in his chest. He tightened his grip on his pen, regaining his composure after a moment.
Rest was needed, it seemed.
