8-Month Pregnant, Hubby Demands I Cook His Birthday Feast

Chapter 8

The fall had been brutal, and the stairs at the hospital were steep. My baby never had a chance.

Before the surgery even started, I was bleeding out. In my dazed, semi-conscious state, I heard the panic in the doctor's voice as he called for blood bags. But the nurse’s helpless reply stuck with me: "We’re out of stock, Doctor!"

For a split second, I thought maybe dying wouldn’t be so bad. At least I wouldn’t have to face my parents after everything I had done.

But somehow, someone donated blood, and as the emergency team worked to stabilize me, I could feel warmth creeping back into my body. The doctor finally exhaled in relief. "She’s stable. Let’s start the procedure."

The pain was excruciating when they began stitching me up. Jenny’s cruel words about my scars—those "maggots crawling"—haunted me more than ever. But this time, the scars felt like a different kind of punishment.

The unborn baby was gone, and I was left to heal. The anesthesia wore off during the stitches, and the pain made me lose consciousness.

When I woke up, I was in a general ward, with a doctor standing by my bed. As soon as he saw I was awake, he asked, "Miss London, when you scheduled your surgery, you told us your husband had died. Who’s the man outside claiming to be your husband?"

I turned my head, my heart sinking. There he was—Theo, standing in the hallway with bloodshot eyes, his face full of guilt and concern.

“I don’t know him,” I said, my voice cold and devoid of emotion. “He’s delusional. If he doesn’t have a marriage certificate, he’s lying.”

The doctor hesitated for a moment, glancing at my medical chart. "The man donated a significant amount of blood for your surgery. The blood bank was empty, so he gave almost half of his own."

I closed my eyes, exhaustion settling in. "It’s the least he could do," I muttered. "I fell down those stairs because of him."

The doctor didn’t argue. He left, but not before exchanging a few words with Theo. I could see Theo’s face pale, his attempt at defending himself falling flat.

The memory of him shoving me down those stairs played over and over in my mind. Seeing him now made my stomach churn.

Theo finally walked into the room, his footsteps slow and hesitant. He stared at me for what felt like forever before he spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice shaky. "I acted rashly. I didn’t expect this to happen. Jenny’s health has always been fragile. I was afraid if you had hurt her, I wouldn’t be able to explain it to my colleagues."

He kept rambling, justifying his actions. But the only thing I could focus on was the sharp, relentless pain still throbbing in my body. After everything that had happened, the first thing he said to me was to defend himself.

He didn’t ask if I was okay. He didn’t ask how the surgery went. He didn’t even ask about the baby.

I looked at him, and something in me broke. I couldn’t hold back a bitter smile, and tears slipped down my face, landing cold on my chest.

"What’s wrong, Amy? My wife?” He rushed to my side, panic in his voice. “Don’t scare me. Are you feeling alright? I’ll get the doctor!"

“Wait,” I stopped him. Theo froze, confusion spreading across his face.

I took a deep breath. "Let’s break up, Theo. I’m done."

“I won’t blame Jenny. I won’t blame you either, but please, don’t come near me again. Not in this life, or the next. I never want to see you again.”

His face went white, and he stared at me in shock, as if he couldn’t process what I had just said. But when his phone rang, he glanced at the caller ID, and his expression faltered.

I smirked, full of cold irony, and turned my face away. “Go ahead. Like I said, stay out of my life. Whoever you're with, it has nothing to do with me.”

Five years of love and marriage, gone in a moment. No closure. We rushed into it, and now we were rushing out just as recklessly.

I thought for sure, when he saw Jenny’s name on his phone, he’d leave without a second thought. But instead, he declined the call.

“I know I’ve made you suffer today, but I promise this is the last time. I’ll fix things with her,” he said, desperation in his voice.

Hearing that, I couldn’t help but laugh—bitter, mocking. “Theo, I’m still here. You don’t need a stranger to reminisce about me. Don’t use me as an excuse for your infidelity. It’s disgusting.”

His face twisted in panic. “How can you say that, Amy? You know me better than anyone! In five years, when have I ever betrayed you?”

I could feel my energy draining away. “It’s because you overreacted. If you’d just apologized, we could’ve ended this peacefully. But you made it worse. You didn’t want it to end this way, but you made it happen.”

For the first time, I felt utterly drained. There was nothing left in me to argue. “Think what you want,” I said, my voice cold. “If you think a mother should just keep quiet when insulted, then sure, I did it. Perfect. If that’s your excuse to leave, then go. Let’s just end it now.”

Theo tried to defend himself again, but his phone rang a third time.

This time, he didn’t hesitate. With one last disappointed glance at me, he turned and left the room.

The moment he was gone, I pulled out my phone and messaged my parents overseas. I told them I’d be joining them in two weeks.

I wouldn’t be coming back.

My mother knew me better than anyone. The second she saw my message, she called. I couldn’t bring myself to answer. I was afraid she’d hear the truth in my voice, and I couldn’t bear it.

I let her calls ring out, one after another, until she stopped calling. Then, I texted her, pretending everything was fine.

“Sorry, I was having French food and didn’t see my phone,” I wrote, the words tasting like ash.

“It’s nothing. I just miss you guys. Being with family is what matters most.”

“After all this time, I’ve realized Theo and I just aren’t compatible. Maybe you were right all along.”