Mr. President, Your Wife Is Your Guilty Pleasure

“Brenda, take a deep breath and push, okay? It will be over before you even know it,” a nurse said warmly as she gently caressed Brenda’s stomach. Brenda shook her head from one side to another as her face became contorted with an unbearable pain. “I… I don’t think I can do this anymore. I’m exhausted,” she stammered, her words breaking apart as she panted, struggling for breath. Brenda’s brown hair had fallen messily over her body, sticking to the sweat on her skin, while her hands clutched aggressively at the mattress of the hospital bed. She had been in labour for a full day and was already on the verge of giving up. No matter how hard she tried to push, the child still felt stuck inside her, draining her strength. Another midwife stepped forward, placing her hands gently on Brenda’s stomach to assist her as best as she could. They knew Brenda was exhausted because her relentless panting made that clear but they could not give up on her. Not now, not when they could feel the child coming. “Brenda, darling, do you want me to call your husband? It might help to have him here with you…” Before the midwife could finish, Brenda shook her head firmly, cutting her off. “No… no, please. You can’t do that,” she stammered, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from falling. The midwife nodded in understanding. “Now take a deep breath for me, Brenda, and push with all your strength, okay?” another midwife encouraged gently. Brenda nodded, almost as if compelled, biting hard on her lower lip. “Arrrrrghhhhhh!” she screamed, her fingers tightening around the mattress. At the sound of her cry, Clara, Brenda’s daughter who’s twenty years old, suddenly rushed into the hospital room and hurried to her mother’s side, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Mom, you’re going to be alright, okay? Everything will be fine, so please… just take a deep breath.” Brenda gave a faint smile and scoffed. “I… I… can do this…” Before Brenda could complete her words, a loud hiss rolled out from her mouth. “I can’t… please, I can’t do this anymore,” she sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks. The doctor who was dressed in a white coat with a stethoscope draped around her neck, nodded before stepping outside. Clara leaned closer, planting another kiss on her mother’s cheek. “Mom, I’m going to step out for a few seconds, so hang in there, okay?” Clara stammered. With staggered, hurried steps, she walked out of the hospital room and found the doctor waiting just outside. “So, Clara Preston,” the female doctor said, glancing at the file in her hands. “Given your mother’s condition and her fatigue, I strongly recommend a caesarean section. She has already lost a lot of strength, and if she continues any further, both her life and the baby’s could be at risk.” Clara gasped, blinking several times as she bite her lower lip. Questions swirled in her mind, but she felt too weak to form the words. The doctor sighed, lowering the file and fixing Clara with a steady gaze. “For the caesarean section to proceed, you’ll need to make an advance payment before we can take your mother into the operating room.” Clara sigh, swallowing hard, the movement visible in her throat. “So… umm… how much is it?” she stammered, the words heavy on her lips. “The amount would be discussed to you on the hospital front desk,” the doctor explained, her tone remaining calm and professional. “Also, your mom is already in a critical state, so you need to act fast.” Clara nodded, and with that, she ran to the front desk, where the nurse in charge asked for her mother’s name to check the bill on the computer in front of her. After a few minutes, Clara was told that the operation fees would cost $1,000, and payment had to be made before the surgery could even begin. “Um… how on earth am I going to get that kind of money? Mom works as a waitress, and Dad… could Dad even offer me such an amount? Or should I ask my boyfriend instead?” Clara questioned herself and before she could find an answer to her own question she was already rushing out of the hospital building. The moment Clara stepped outside of the building, she was greeted by dark clouds gathering in the sky and the rumbling sounds of thunder, signalling that rain could start at any moment from now. Despite the clear signs of an approaching storm, Clara didn’t care. Her parents’ house was only a few blocks away from the hospital, so with hurried steps, she ran toward it. “I’m lucky the rain hasn’t started yet,” Clara mused inwardly upon arriving at the entrance door of her parent’s house but before she could open the front door, it to suddenly swing open. “You! What the… what the hell are you doing in my house?” Mr. Preston, Clara’s father, demanded, his words stumbling as he stepped outside of his house. He shut the door firmly behind him, staggering unsteadily from one side to the other. Clara exhaled, trying to steady her breath after running. “Dad, Mom is in the hospital right now, and she really needs to undergo an operation before things go south.” Mr. Preston scoffed, rolling his eyes at her words. “So you expect me to give you money? Why… why would I do that when it’s clear I’m not your father?” “Come on, Dad. I don’t know what’s going on between you and Mom, but please… please just give me the money. We can sort everything out when she comes out of the hospital.” “Pftt,” he exhaled, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand as he staggered backward, slipping the key into his trouser pocket. “I found… I found out that your mother has been meeting with your father. The man who abandoned you. And now… now you all want me to pay for her operation, when it’s clear I might not even be the father. How pathetic!” he seethed, spitting angrily on the floor. Brenda, Clara’s mother, had given birth to her while still in high school and at that time, Brenda’s parents strongly disliked her high school boyfriend and forced them to break up. After Clara was born, Brenda’s parents forced Brenda to marry the son of their close friend, Mr. Preston and although he was not Clara’s biological father, he still went ahead to provide love and support for her. For years Mr. Preston assumed the role of a caring father but everything changed when his wife later became pregnant just nine months ago. Mr. Preston assume he was impotent so the fact that his wife was pregnant made him assume that she must have rekindled her relationship with her high school lover and despite Mrs. Preston denial, Mr. Preston drove both her and Clara out of his house and ever since, that turned him into a lonely man. Sigh! Presently, Clara sighed as she looked at her drunken father, realizing there was no hope to persuade him. But then, an idea came into her mind but it was one that would put her in danger.