When I woke up, a nurse was beside me, giving me some hot water. “Where’s your husband? Should we call him? What could be more important than his wife giving birth?”
I was stunned. “He didn’t come?”
The baby was born overnight and he never came. Holding back my anger, I called him. This time, he answered.
He lowered his voice and said, “I’ll be right back.”
A woman’s voice followed, “William, have breakfast before you go. You must be exhausted after last night. I made chicken noodle soup.”
My fingers clenched and my heart felt stabbed with pain. “You stayed at her place all night?”
His calm tone turned sharp. “What are you implying? She has a baby. What could I do? Fine, I’ll come back after breakfast.”
The call ended suddenly and tears poured down my face. Half an hour later, William arrived with roses and clean clothes.
“Wife, I was wrong. I thought you were lying. When I got home, you were gone and the neighbors said an ambulance took you away.”
He kept explaining that Regina’s child had a tantrum and wouldn’t let him leave. After finally putting the child to sleep, it was already past midnight, so he stayed there to avoid disturbing me.
I nodded. “Are you finished? I’m tired and need to rest.”
William opened his mouth but said nothing. I slept lightly and regained some strength. When I woke up, he was gone. A note lay on the bedside: [Regina was in a car accident. I’m going to check on her.]
For days, William was gone. His WhatsApp updates showed him caring for Regina. Her leg hurt, or she was injured and couldn’t cook, so he looked after her and the baby.
Every update was about Regina. Since our child was born, he hadn’t even looked at her or given her a name.
I stopped relying on him and named the baby Rena. I couldn’t eat the hospital food, while other mothers ate meals their families had brought.
I could only ask if I could pay for an extra meal from them. Meanwhile, Regina posted a picture of delicious food on her phone.
[Your cooking is still so good. I never get tired of it.]
On the fifth day after Rena was born, the doctor said she had high jaundice and lung inflammation. I cried all night secretly.
The next morning, as I left the ward for the bathroom, I saw William with Regina and the little girl. The girl looked a bit sick.
William held her, gently patting her back. “Take your medicine and get better soon. Daddy’s here and won’t leave.”