Chapter Two

1053 Words
Leila When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the white ceiling, its bright light making me squint. The faint beeping of a monitor filled the room. I turned my head, expecting to see him beside me, but the chair by my bed was empty, my heart sank in disappointment. It took me a moment to realize where I was, the faint scent of antiseptic, the coolness of the sheets, I was in the Stone Family Hospital. The door creaked open and a nurse stepped in, smiling warmly. “Mrs. Stone, you’re awake. Let me get to the doctor.” She turned to leave, but I stopped her. “How long have I been here? And… have you seen my husband around?” Her smile faltered just slightly, “Oh no, a lady brought you in, she said her name is Maggie, you have been here since yesterday.” So it wasn’t Desmond who had rushed me here, it was Maggie. My chest tightened as the truth slid deeper into me. “Can you please get Maggie for me?” I asked quietly. She nodded and left. I lay back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling, wondering how my life had twisted into something I could hardly recognize. I used to believe in fixing things, in fighting for love. I thought maybe if we tried therapy, maybe if I changed just a little more, I could make him love me again. But somewhere along the way, he had slipped out of my hands entirely, and I had been too blind or too hopeful to notice. The door opened again, and this time it was the doctor. He checked my chart, examined me briefly, and then said, “Mrs. Stone, how are you feeling?” I mumbled something about being fine, but he continued anyway. “You need to be careful with any strenuous activities now that you are pregnant.” I froze, “I’m… what?” He looked at me as if it were obvious. “Pregnant. About a month ago, we ran some tests when you were brought in, and your pregnancy test came back positive.” His voice faded into the background. My mind was too loud, racing through a thousand thoughts at once. Pregnant, with his child. I barely heard whatever lecture the doctor was giving about nutrition or rest. All I could think about was the bitter irony of it. I had wanted this for so long, a baby. I had prayed for it, dreamed that maybe it could heal the distance between us. And now, here it was, a reality but the father was a man who no longer loved me, a man parading around the city with someone else on his arm. The doctor left, and before I could gather my thoughts, my mother swept in. She came rushing to my side, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. “Honey, oh my goodness, you look so pale,” she said, running her hands over my arm as if checking for injury. “Mom, I’m fine, the doctor said I’ll be discharged tomorrow morning.” She exhaled, still looking at me over. “Do you need anything? I brought chicken broth. Do you want to have it now?” “No, Mom. I’m not hungry.” My voice was soft, but inside, my thoughts were anything but calm. Appetite was the last thing I had right now. Her eyes scanned the room, and I knew the question was coming. “I don’t see your husband around, where is he?” I forced a casual tone. “He’s busy with work. He’ll come after his meeting.” She gave me that look, the one that meant she didn’t believe a word I’d said. “Always making excuses for him. I warned you about him, didn’t I? Now look he’s played you and left you, and he’s out there parading another woman through town. The world doesn’t even know you’re married, Leila. Not a single picture of the two of you has ever been seen in public. She sighs in disappointment. “Mom, are you here to check on me or to criticize my life choices?” I asked, my patience weary. “Both,” she said bluntly. “I hate that he treats you like you’re nothing, and you still let him. I’m angry, Leila, you deserve better.” I didn’t respond, if she knew the full truth that he was leaving me for someone else, she’d explode. I didn’t want the drama, not for me, and especially not for the baby. “Men like this,” she continued, “make you feel like you’re not enough. Not pretty enough, not rich enough, not smart enough. And then you start losing yourself, surgeries, changes, desperate attempts to be what they want and in the end, you look in the mirror and can’t even recognize yourself. And worst of all, they still leave.” Her words were a direct hit. She didn’t know how right she was. I remembered the compromises I’d made, the ways I had bent myself into someone else’s shape. How I had once considered a Brazilian butt lift because he liked curvy women until he told me he actually preferred them slim. How I dyed my wavy black hair blonde because he once said blondes were cute. Nothing I did was enough, because I never truly had him in the first place. And now, there was a baby, a baby I wanted to protect. After my mom left, Maggie came in. I didn’t waste time. “Did you bring me here? And is my husband aware I’m here?” “Yes,” she said simply. “The boss knows you’re here, but he said he’s busy at work and will check on you before you’re discharged.” I nodded, blinking back tears. “Maggie, please go home and bring me new clothes, toiletries, and shoes. Classy ones,” I said firmly. She raised a brow, clearly puzzled, but didn’t question me. She left a few minutes later. When the room was quiet again, I rested my hand on my stomach. The life inside me was small, fragile, and innocent. “Let’s go pay Daddy a surprise visit,” I whispered.
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