Chapter 2
951 Words
Bridget's POV:
Night arrived right on schedule, and my phone chimed with a notification.
I picked it up casually and saw a message from Ryan.
Ryan: Something came up tonight, so I won't be coming home. Save your surprise for tomorrow—I'll come back and discover it then.
I let out a sarcastic laugh and didn't bother replying.
I'd expected this already.
Years ago, on one of our wedding anniversaries, I was buried in work. Even so, I took a ten-hour flight just to spend the day with him. Yet the moment I walked through the front door, he was already preparing to leave.
"Bridget," he said hurriedly, grabbing his keys, "Patricia needs help. A pipe burst at her apartment. I'll be right back."
Every bit of anticipation I had carried home vanished instantly.
The exhaustion from the long trip seemed to multiply, and the disappointment left a sour ache in my chest.
I stared at him in disbelief.
"Can you even fix a burst pipe?" I demanded. "That's what plumbers are for. What can you do to help? And have you forgotten what day it is today?"
Ryan impatiently walked past me.
"I know it's our anniversary," he replied. "But it comes every year. I'll be back soon. You don't understand—Patricia acts carefree, but she panics whenever something goes wrong."
Then he rushed out the door.
The anniversary gift in my hands suddenly felt unbearably heavy.
Over time, I stopped expecting anything from him.
I pushed the memory aside and headed to the Rothwell family estate.
I'd already promised to attend the family dinner. If I failed to show up, others would only have more reasons to criticize me.
The moment I arrived, I ran into Ryan.
For once, he actually offered an explanation.
"I really was planning to go home," he said awkwardly. "But Patricia's stomach wasn't feeling well. I thought she'd be scared of staying at the hospital alone."
I nodded politely and brushed him off with a few indifferent responses.
Before he could continue talking, I walked inside.
At the dinner table, everyone exchanged a few pleasantries before the conversation inevitably turned toward me.
My mother-in-law, Mrs. Carol Rothwell, had never been fond of me.
"You've been married for so long and still haven't had a child," she said sharply. "Is it because you don't want one, or because you can't have one? Have you been taking the herbal remedies I gave you?"
Every visit was the same.
She would lecture me first, then force more disgusting herbal concoctions into my hands.
Even after one batch had made me sick enough to require treatment, she never stopped.
"Then try a different remedy," she insisted at the time. "Not having children is the real problem."
And Ryan, who knew the truth behind everything, simply sat there and watched.
He either let them criticize me endlessly or offered meaningless reassurances that we'd "keep trying".
This time, however, I didn't apologize.
I didn't promise to drink more remedies or try harder.
Instead, I calmly set down my fork and looked directly at her.
"If Ryan doesn't want children," I said evenly, "how exactly am I supposed to get pregnant?"
Mrs. Carol immediately jumped to her feet.
"That's a lie!" she shouted. "My son would never refuse to have children. You're the one with the problem. You're the one who can't have them!"
For years, I had been the only person wounded whenever this subject came up.
As though I was the sole sinner.
Without another word, I pulled out an audio recording and pressed "Play".
Soon, an argument from years ago echoed through the dining room.
It was recorded on the night I discovered Ryan had been secretly giving me birth control.
My furious voice filled the room.
"So I've been unable to get pregnant because of you? You're doing this because Patricia doesn't want you to have children? Ryan, have you lost your mind? Having a child is a decision between us!"
Back then, I had been outraged by such a ridiculous explanation.
Ryan's irritated voice followed.
"Do you really need a child that badly? You're not running out of time. What's wrong with waiting a few more years? As for my mother, can't you just endure a few comments from her?"
That argument changed nothing.
Ryan never compromised.
Instead, he simply stopped sleeping with me altogether.
Another recording played.
"We'll have children in a few years," Ryan said matter-of-factly. "Patricia needs time to adjust first. She's going to be our child's godmother someday. You wouldn't want our kids to miss out on their godmother's affection, would you?"
In the past, I had stayed silent for the sake of family harmony.
I had swallowed every grievance and kept his secret.
But now? If they weren't ashamed, why should I?
Carol's face flushed bright red.
She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, but no words came out.
After dinner ended, Ryan found me outside.
He looked irritated at first, but when his eyes met my cold expression, his anger softened.
"Bridget," he said after a long pause, "did you really have to do that?"
He sighed heavily. "Forget it. Maybe you're right."
Then he looked at me as though he were offering a compromise.
"It's probably time for us to have a child anyway."
- Writer
