When I Had Enough, I Stopped Loving Him

Chapter 3

I was eight weeks pregnant when I visited Maplewood Women's & Maternity Clinic all alone.

I looked up detailed hospital guides on my phone to figure out registration, waiting in line, getting blood drawn, and the ultrasound scan—every single step on my own.

I'm slow with everything; I messed up the self-check-in kiosk over and over before getting it right and ended up in the wrong line twice. People behind me rolled their eyes in annoyance. I smiled awkwardly and got in the right line.

Once the ultrasound was done, my doctor told me the fetus was developing normally, but I was on the weaker side and needed plenty of rest. I took careful notes of everything the doctor said on my phone.

After leaving the consultation room, I sat on a corridor bench clutching the ultrasound printout and stared at it for ages. On the black-and-white scan, there was a tiny faint dot—that was my baby.

My eyes burned with welling tears, and I quickly sniffed them back.

I was about to stand when something at the end of the hallway caught my eye, freezing me in place.

Ezra walked out of the elevator, Talia looped through his arm. Her baby bump was already showing, and she was wearing a soft pale yellow maternity dress. One of Ezra's hands rested on her waist while the other held a paper bag stuffed with prenatal supplements. They chatted and laughed as they headed toward the maternity ward.

I instinctively crumpled the ultrasound printout into my pocket, ducked my head, and shrank into the bench. They walked straight past me. Ezra never saw me. Or maybe he glanced over but didn't recognize me with my head down.

I heard Talia's sweet, clingy voice drift over.

"Ezra, the doctor said our baby's perfectly healthy. Aren't you happy?"

Ezra let out a short laugh.

"I am."

Those two words stabbed right through me. He was happy—happy about a baby growing inside another woman. I was carrying his child too, but he knew nothing about it.

I sat on that bench for about half an hour after they'd gone. Then I got up, washed my face in the restroom, and walked out of the hospital.

As soon as I reached the clinic entrance, my phone buzzed with a new message from Talia:

Nina? Were you just at the clinic? I thought I saw someone with your figure earlier.

I ignored the message. Another one popped up moments later:

Are you unwell? Want me to have Ezra drive you for a checkup? He's still at the clinic.

I typed slowly and sent my reply:

No need. I just came to pick up some medicine. I've already left.

She replied right away:

Thank goodness! Also, Nina, you know about our wedding the day after tomorrow, right? Ezra said he'd filled you in.

It's just for show. Ezra's heart still belongs to you :)

I stared at that smiley face for a long time. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something about it made my skin crawl.

*****

Once home, I shut myself in my bedroom. I pulled out the ultrasound printout, snapped a photo with my phone, and opened my chat history with Ezra. My finger hovered over the send button again and again—I was dying to send him the picture. In the end, I typed nothing and closed the conversation.

*****

That night, I dreamed of my childhood.

When I turned seven, Ezra's whole family moved in next door. Quick and sharp, he was good at everything—fast runner, whiz at math, smooth talker. Me, I was slow at everything—slow walker, slow talker, slow at homework. The neighborhood kids teased me constantly: "Nina's a snail! Nina's an i***t!"

Only Ezra would step in and shield me.

"She's not stupid. She just thinks things through more carefully than you do."

That was the first time I ever knew what it felt like to have someone stand up for me.

From that day on, he was the only one for me. Eighteen years. I'd never once looked at anyone else.

But you can't live on one kind sentence forever. What he said at ten couldn't protect my heart at twenty-five.