After I got pregnant, my husband, Daniel, specifically put a “Baby on Board” sticker on the car. He hoped it would attract trouble. Then, a violent impact hit us. In a daze, I heard my husband’s voice: “So, putting a sticker on really works! It gets rid of the bastard in my wife’s belly, and she’ll never suspect me!” “Don’t blame me, Ellie! I told you to get an abortion a long time ago. You’re the one who betrayed me first!” I had a long, terrifying nightmare. I dreamt Daniel used an incredibly absurd method to kill my baby. I struggled to open my eyes. He was grabbing the doctor, frantically asking when I’d wake up. When he saw my eyes open, he burst into tears of joy, rushing over to grip my hand. “Ellie, you’re finally awake.” Seeing him like this, I couldn’t help but pat his hand reassuringly, a small laugh bubbling in my heart. How could I have such a ridiculous dream? Though Daniel was a little paranoid, he wouldn’t go so far as to harm his own child. “How’s the baby?” At my question, his smiling face stiffened. “The doctor said… they couldn’t save it.” “But don’t worry, we’re still young. We’ll have another baby soon.” Daniel squeezed my hand, offering comfort, but his expression didn’t convey profound grief, as if he were bravely holding it together to console his sorrowful wife. Instead, there was a hint of barely concealed glee. Recalling the dream, a sliver of doubt crept into my mind. I was about to speak when my phone rang. “Chloe, I heard you were in a car accident? Are you okay?” It was Chloe, a colleague. I pushed away Daniel’s face, which had leaned in to eavesdrop, covered the mouthpiece, and mouthed: “It’s a woman.” Then, speaking at a normal volume, I said: “I’m fine, but… we lost the baby.” Chloe drew out her words, her tone regretful: “Oh, I see… No wonder you were so heartbroken you decided to resign.” Resign? My gaze locked on Daniel, who was pricking up his ears, listening intently. He rubbed his nose, avoiding my eyes. “Chloe, could you please explain to Brenda that I have no intention of resigning?” “The doctor needs me for an exam here, let’s talk later.” I hung up the phone before Daniel could open his mouth to stop me, taking a deep breath to suppress my anger. “Why did you resign for me? Why would you make decisions for me without even discussing it?” Daniel sighed, his attitude sincere: “I was just so worried. Seeing you lying in that hospital bed, barely alive, like you might never wake up again. I was so scared for you.” “Daniel, this isn’t the first time you’ve done this! This is my job, shouldn’t you have talked to me about it?” “I know you, always trying to be strong and do everything yourself. Now you’ve had a miscarriage, your health isn’t what it used to be. Why not listen to me and quit that job? It’s not like our family relies on your income, right?” He looked at me as if I were a clueless child. A gasp caught in my throat, suffocating me as if someone had choked me. My breathing became ragged. He rushed over to help me calm down. I shoved his hand away. “Enough, I don’t want to hear you anymore. I’m checking out of this hospital.”
In the end, we both compromised. Daniel wouldn’t unilaterally try to quit my job for me, and I would rest at home for a while until I recovered. “Sorry, Brenda, I’ll be back at work in a week.” She expressed understanding. I curled up on the couch, chatting idly with her, when I suddenly heard a commotion at the door. “Oh dear, how could such a thing happen, a car accident out of nowhere?” My mother-in-law, Martha, walked in, clutching a small purse, and settled herself tightly beside me, making herself at home. I shifted away, looking at Daniel who had followed her in, questioning him with my eyes. He smiled. “Mom heard about your miscarriage, she was worried about you, so she traveled all this way to take care of you.” “Yes, that’s right. Such a grown woman, can’t even drive properly, isn’t that just making us old folks work hard? My poor son, he was finally going to have a child, and you just… cut it short.” As Martha’s words grew increasingly inappropriate, I didn’t have the energy to get angry. Because Daniel had only smiled through the first part, but when he heard the word “child,” his face suddenly changed. This was very wrong. But I didn’t have much chance to investigate. Martha, under the guise of taking care of me, followed me everywhere. Chloe called, wanting my help with a project, and Martha leaned closer to me as she picked vegetables. I frowned, turned and went upstairs, closing the door. I’d barely opened my laptop when a loud knocking started. “Mom, I’m working.” “Work is work, but why close the door? It’s like you’re guarding against a thief. There are only two of us in this house, what do you take me for?” I had no choice but to leave the door open. Martha left, satisfied. She was back a moment later. Carrying a plate of fruit, she placed it on the desk, her eyes constantly darting to my screen. “Didn’t you say you were busy with work? Why is it a SnapChat page?” “Work requires communication.” “Is this a man or a woman? My son said you’re not allowed to talk to men. Don’t think that just because he’s not here, you can ignore what he says.” After several back and forths, I finally snapped. “Your son, your son! Are you here to take care of me or to spy on me for your son?” Martha was startled by my sudden outburst, scoffed, and stomped downstairs. When Daniel returned that evening, the two of them murmured in their regional dialect for a long time. Lying halfway on the bed, reading a book, Daniel pushed open the door and lay down beside me. “Did you argue with Mom?” “Did you tell your mom to spy on me?” I was fuming. “What nonsense. She’s just doing it for our own good. Maybe her methods are a bit hard for you to accept.” One playing the bad cop, the other the good cop. “Didn’t you tell her to do this? Now you’re acting all calm and pretending to be the good guy!” I slammed a glass on the floor, making a loud crash. “Hey, hey, hey, what’s going on?” Martha burst through the door. I turned and glared at her. “Can you please knock before you come in!” “What? My son’s room, and I, his mother, can’t enter?” Martha spoke in dialect. Daniel joined her. The two went back and forth, but I couldn’t understand a thing. Rage surged, swelling like a balloon: the injustice of losing my child, the helplessness of almost being forced to resign, the annoyance of being spied on by my mother-in-law. At that moment, a steel needle pricked it. “Can you two please stop speaking in dialect!” I screamed hysterically. Both of them looked at me. Martha tried to say something else, but Daniel cut her off. She left, and Daniel reached out to stroke my back. “Alright, alright, don’t be angry anymore.” I calmed down a bit, listening to his soft, gentle voice, and couldn’t help but soften my tone, intending to discuss it properly with him. “When you and your mom speak in your dialect, it makes me feel like an outsider.” Daniel still smiled. “Then you should learn it too, wouldn’t that solve it?”
It was time for my follow-up appointment at the hospital. Daniel was at work, so Martha accompanied me. “Oh, a taxi is so expensive, why don’t we walk instead and get some exercise?” An hour’s walk completely delayed my scheduled appointment with the doctor. There was no choice but to register and queue again. The doctor said I was recovering well. Martha, listening nearby, seemed uninterested. It was only when she heard that it wouldn’t affect my ability to have children in the future that a small smile appeared on her face. The doctor prescribed some medication and told me to pick it up. When paying, I suddenly heard an “Insufficient funds” alert. The alert was loud, and I felt everyone staring at me, their gazes like needles in my back. I gave an embarrassed smile and said, “Please wait a moment.” Then I quickly opened my banking app to check my balance. My hand trembled, and I entered the password incorrectly several times. Finally, I got in, only to see a massive “0.00.” For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Yesterday, I had given Daniel my bank card password. He said his company was tight on funds recently and cash flow was difficult. Since I’d spent a lot on my hospital stay a few days ago, could I advance some of the medical fees? I thought, “Of course,” and gave him my bank card password. But I never expected him to transfer all my money away. Eight thousand dollars, including my savings, salary, and living expenses. My teeth ground together, making a clacking sound, as I dialed Daniel’s number. “You transferred all the money out of my bank account?” “Oh, right, I forgot to tell you.” I couldn’t be bothered to argue with him about the reasons; the people in line behind me were already getting impatient. “Transfer three hundred and fifty dollars right now. I’m at the hospital queuing to pay for my medication.” “Got it.” He hung up. I smiled apologetically at the people behind me and said, “Sorry about that.” A SnapChat notification came through. I sighed in relief, but then I looked at the transfer amount and saw it was only three hundred. I froze. “It’s three hundred and fifty. You sent too little.” I sent a message, but there was no reply. I had to turn to Martha for help. She looked down her nose at me. “I’m old, can’t figure out your mobile payments. I only have a little cash.” She fumbled in her pants pocket and pulled out a few crumpled bills, tossing them onto the floor. They were a few ones and fives, not enough to cover the medication. “Hurry up! What are you doing up there? There are so many people waiting, how many people’s time are you going to waste?” I took a deep breath, my eyes gradually misting over. I had no choice but to call Daniel again. “Oh, it’s just fifty dollars, I know, I know. I’m in a meeting here, gotta go.” I endured the most difficult five minutes of my life before those fifty dollars finally appeared on my phone. After I finally paid, Martha was still rambling on beside me. “Ah, just a few small boxes of medicine, and it costs hundreds of dollars.” “Ellie, let me tell you, you can’t be so foolish, listening to everything the doctors say. They’re just tricking you, making you buy expensive medicine so they get a commission, they’re terrible!” I was exhausted and didn’t respond, only thinking to myself that I would go back to work tomorrow.
That night, as I paced around the house trying on clothes, Daniel’s eyes kept darting my way. Finally, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Why are you dressed up so nicely? Where are you going?” I turned from side to side, looking at myself in the mirror, and said: “The doctor said I’m recovering well and can go back to work. Tomorrow’s Monday, too.” Daniel fell silent, and so did I. Sure enough, a moment later he spoke again. “I saw the weather forecast said it’s going to rain tomorrow. A skirt might not be very convenient, right?” I didn’t turn around. “Oh, I’m meeting a client tomorrow, so it’s better to dress a bit more formally.” “But it’s a bit too short.” “Daniel, are you crazy? It’s past my knees, how is that short?” I retorted testily. He fell silent. When I woke up the next day, he had already left. But no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find the skirt I’d tried on last night. I had to find a pair of jeans to wear instead. When I went to put on makeup, my foundation, brushes, eyeshadow, and blush were all gone. I gritted my teeth and began tearing through drawers and cabinets, but they were nowhere. Finally, realizing I was going to be late, I rushed to the office without makeup and borrowed a colleague’s meager supplies to put on a light touch. During lunch break, I found an empty lounge. Suppressing my anger, I called Daniel. He finally picked up on the third try. He still spoke in a good-natured tone. “What’s wrong?” “Where did you hide my skirt and my makeup?” “I’m at work. Can we talk about this when I get home, okay?” His voice was almost coaxing, as if I were being unreasonable. “Did I not tell you that was the outfit I needed to wear to meet a client today?” “How come your work is work, but my work isn’t?” “Actually, I think you look better without makeup, really.” “Alright, alright, don’t be mad. My client is calling. We’ll talk when I get back.” “Beep-beep—” The cold, hollow dial tone echoed in my ear. I impulsively threw a cup. It shattered right at Brenda’s feet. “What happened? Who upset you? Tell big sister.” “Brenda…” I sobbed, throwing my arms around her. “I feel like I’m getting so much more irritable. I feel like when I’m with him, I’m just an unreasonable shrew.” “To outsiders, I’m temperamental and he’s gentle. He takes all my abuse, letting me hit and curse him. Everyone says he’s a good guy, that he dotes on his wife.” I was a bit incoherent. Brenda patted my head. “I’ll give you some time off, and I’ll advance you a month’s salary. Didn’t you say he hid your clothes? Go buy more.” Brenda let me leave early, but I didn’t go shopping. There was one thing I absolutely had to figure out. Martha had been home the past few days, so I hadn’t been able to search thoroughly. But I knew Daniel had a habit of keeping a diary. It was an old-fashioned habit, but it was also my only path to the truth. Whether my child was actually lost because of him, I’d soon know. I found his diary in a drawer. My heart pounded as I flipped to the day of my car accident. But it wasn’t there. My car accident happened on August 3rd. August 2nd was there, August 4th was there, but August 3rd was missing. I looked closely and found traces of torn pages in the middle. I lifted the mattress. There was a compartment in the bed frame. Daniel always hid small items he didn’t want me to know about here, like his secret stash of money, or torn-out diary pages. I opened the compartment, and sure enough, there were two handwritten pages inside. “Ellie has been getting very close to that male colleague lately. They went to a hotel together, and soon after, she told me she was pregnant.” “I told her to get rid of it, but she refused and even yelled at me for being crazy. Why should I have to wear this humiliating green hat?” “I have a plan. I’ll put a ‘pregnant woman’ sticker on her car. Someone who doesn’t like it will naturally try to cut her off.” “Heaven’s blessings, that bastard is really gone!”
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “339502”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic
Leave a Reply