I didn’t smoke, but Leon did. He never cared about Karen’s pregnancy, even deliberately blowing smoke rings into her face. She would laugh every time, thinking it was a form of intimacy.
I indulged her too much and in doing so, I harmed this child.
Karen had always said she didn’t want a child, so I would take precautions every time. But when she said she wanted one, I was overjoyed. I actively prepared for the pregnancy, trying all sorts of ways to make her nutritious meals, but she would throw them all away and secretly go to bars and night markets with Leon behind my back.
Every time, she gave me the cold shoulder and I endured it in silence. I never ate on time, waiting for her to come home for dinner.
But now, she was using this child, one we were about to lose, to threaten me.
I finished the last of my milk and said, "Karen, I know you don’t like me. Getting divorced sooner is better for both of us."
She slammed the folder onto the table. "Who said I don’t..."
A sudden phone ring interrupted her. I glanced at it; it was Leon, who had just left.
Karen hesitated for a second before answering. I didn’t know what was said on the other end, but she quickly stood up.
She glanced at me hesitantly. "Something happened with Leon. I have to go check on him."
I shrugged indifferently. She quietly picked up the divorce agreement and said, "I know you care about this baby. I was wrong before and I promise I’ll behave and listen to you from now on. Let’s not joke about divorce."
She then leaned in, intending to kiss me, but I quickly dodged.
Karen froze in place. I said coldly, "This Saturday, meet me at the maternity ward of the city hospital. Nine in the morning—don’t be late."
Karen had the right to be there for the child and I had the obligation to be with her when we terminated the pregnancy.
I watched indifferently as her expression went from gloomy to cheerful and she playfully said, "No problem! I’ll be there on time!"
I didn’t respond and casually deleted all her contact information.
In the end, Karen didn’t show up. She missed the appointment.
The day before, I had visited my parents and sister to tell them about everything. I saw my mother quietly wiping away tears, so I comforted her a bit.
I said, "It seems like the child and I just don’t have fate. Three months—it’s for the best. At least the child won’t have to suffer with me."