Gregory froze for a moment.
Then, helplessly, he reached out and gently patted my head to comfort me.
"Darling, let me handle this, and I'll come back to be with you right away."
"Will you wait for me here, alright?"
I didn't answer.
After watching Gregory's figure disappear at the end of the hospital hallway, I climbed onto the abortion bed alone.
"Kasey, your husband cares so much about the baby. Are you really sure you want to terminate the pregnancy?" The doctor looked at me in confusion.
After being with Gregory for seven years, we had finally gotten pregnant.
The day I confirmed my pregnancy, Gregory excitedly gave the gifts to all the doctors and nurses in the department. At that time, those young nurses looked at me with admiration in their eyes.
"Kasey, your husband loves you so much. You must be very happy, right?"
Marrying my first love and having a child together.
Seven years of marriage, still full of desire for each other, no sign of the so-called seven-year itch.
At that time, I nodded sincerely, saying, "Yes, I'm very happy."
But now, I lay on the cold abortion table.
Feeling the cold instruments moving within me.
And remembering those words: "Kasey, your husband loves you so much. You must be very happy, right?"
A tear involuntarily fell from the corner of my eye.
Gregory might still love me.
But I no longer wanted to wait for him.
---
After the miscarriage procedure, I was pale and led back to my hospital room by the nurse. I sent a message to Clarissa.
"Are you serious about making me famous?"
"Why are you responding at this time? Isn't Gregory with you?" I wasn't sure what to say.
Clarissa seemed to sense something was wrong and asked for my address. I sent her the location of the hospital.
While waiting for her to arrive, my phone buzzed as the blogger I followed had posted something new.
[The best things in life are fragile, like the colorful clouds and delicate glass.]
[But this doesn't really concern us. They're a perfect match, like a rogue and a courtesan~]
The blogger, who went by the name of "Mrs. Stark," had updated a photo just two minutes ago.
She was wearing a strapless wedding dress, being held from behind by a man.
There were unmistakable marks on her neck, clear as day to any adult—finger marks and kiss marks.
And the contrast in body shapes and skin tones between her and the man made this photo full of atmosphere. If only the man's ring finger wasn't wearing the same wedding ring as mine. If only she wasn't wearing the same wedding dress that Gregory and I had worn when we got married.
The account "Mrs. Stark" was registered exactly one year ago today, and now had accumulated fifty thousand followers. The photo was posted, and many fans left comments below.
[Why hasn't Mr. Stark dumped that old woman? He's clearly more suited to his wife. Please, have a child for Mr. Stark, too.]
[The wife is so beautiful, if I were Mr. Stark, I'd want to sleep beside her every night.]
[Only the unloved are the mistresses, Mr. Stark's old wife should leave quickly! He only feels guilty, not love!] Jasmine Montague's nearly one-year-long record had attracted many fans with similar experiences.
They didn't think Gregory was wrong for cheating, and they didn't care that Jasmine Montague knew he was married but still shamelessly entangled with him. They only felt that I was blocking their happiness.
[The original wife should die quickly!] This comment was soon pinned to the top.
I stared at it blankly, until Jasmine commented underneath.
[Mr. Stark told me earlier that if she didn't make it through childbirth, I would be the child's biological mother.]
The anger I had been suppressing for so long burst out in that moment.
I tightly grasped Clarissa Walker's hand, who had hurried to my side, and handed her the miscarriage report on the bedside table.
"Please hand this to Gregory."
"He doesn't need to bother cursing me to death. I'm willingly making room for his Mrs. Stark!"
