That man let out a mocking laugh. "Regina's tricks are getting bolder by the day. Now she's even learning to hide and let you guys stand up for her! But I'm not stupid! Eight years ago, on the day of the fire, I called her hundreds of times, but she didn't answer! If it weren't for Dina, I probably would have died in that fire!"
"Besides, we've been married for many years; I know her body like I know myself. Do you think I, as her husband, wouldn't know if she had a broken back or burns on her lower back? Dragging up something from eight years ago ... your Dr. Whitaker has become both malicious and stupid!"
My spirit floated above Tom's head, while a piercing pain shot through my empty heart.
Tom Lynch truly had never believed me.
Even though he'd seen me taking handfuls of pills over the years, noticed the strangeness in our intimate moments, and even witnessed me being wheeled into the operating room eight years ago while recovering in the hospital, he still refused to believe it.
He still insisted that the person who rescued him from the fire eight years ago was Dina Dawson, not me.
"Mr. Lynch … " someone tried to speak again.
But he snapped, "Enough! I don't want to hear it! Tell Dr. Whitaker this: she can come back to this family if she wants, but if not, she can die out there with the child!"
"Dr. Whitaker really is dead … "
Tom slammed the door shut with a loud bang. Amidst the deafening sound, he didn't hear the nurse's sobbing mutterings at all.
The moment he arrived home, he saw the room filled with things I had prepared for the child.
Tom kicked the items aside as if they were trash, and then immediately pulled out his phone to call Dina.
"Dina, I'm having the driver bring over all those things prepared for the child. Regina and the little bastard in her womb aren't worthy of what I had prepared for them!"
After watching the driver take away those eyesore items, Tom finally let out a sigh of relief.
He poured himself a glass of red wine, turned on the TV, and sank into the sofa. Just as he raised the glass to his lips, the mournful voice of a news anchor came from the television.
[Three days ago, a famous obstetrician-gynecologist in our city died on her beloved operating table, along with her child, due to complications during childbirth. May she rest in peace.]
Tom put down his glass and sprang up from the sofa. His eyes were fixed on the large news headline.