When Love Burns Out

Four months pregnant, I was picking out a birthday present for my husband at the mall when an earthquake struck. The panicked crowd knocked me to the ground. As I struggled to get back up, I noticed blood running down my legs. In a panic, I turned and saw my husband carrying his young assistant out of the nearby cinema in his arms. I grabbed him in tears and told him I might be miscarrying, but he shoved me aside impatiently. “Xixi twisted her ankle. I have to get her to the hospital right now. Can you stop being jealous and using the baby as an excuse all the time? Don’t you find yourself disgusting?” Half an hour later, lying expressionless on the cold operating table, I told the doctor, “The baby’s father is dead. Please schedule the procedure as soon as possible.”