I jerked my head up. "Jonathan, I've just been seriously ill … "
"Six hundred milliliters."
Jonathan interrupted me, gesturing to the doctor. "Start now."
The moment the extremely thick needle pierced my vein, I bit through my lip.
The taste of blood spread in my mouth, but it couldn't compare to the pain of my heart being torn apart.
Through the half-open door, I heard the hushed voice of the family doctor.
"Mr. Zander, Madam just experienced a miscarriage. Her hemoglobin is only 80. Drawing blood like this could lead to … "
"Spare me the nonsense." Jonathan's tone was indifferent. "Wendy can't wait."
Blood flowed along the tube into the blood bag and my vision began to blur.
In a trance, Jonathan walked before me and wiped the cold sweat from my forehead with a handkerchief, something he'd never done before.
"Scream if it hurts." His voice was surprisingly soft. "It'll be over soon. Just bear with it. This is all for our child."
I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at him again.
Our child?
When the child is actually born, will he still remember who his real wife is?
As the blood bag gradually filled, Wendy's sharp scream came from the main bedroom.
Jonathan's face changed instantly. He grabbed the doctor's hand just as he was about to remove the needle. "Draw another four hundred."
"That could kill her!" the doctor shouted. "She's already showing signs of shock!"
Jonathan glanced at my pale face briefly, then returned to the bedroom. "Wendy is carrying my child. She comes first, no matter what."
The doctor tried to argue, but I interrupted him.
"Draw it," I spoke hoarsely. My voice was as light as a wisp of smoke. "Jonathan, it's settled. Once you're done, you'll let me leave."
His pupils shrank. He grabbed my chin roughly. "Daphne, are you seriously running away over something like this?"
Wendy's delicate cry came again at the opportune moment and Jonathan flung me away, rushing out without looking back.
Without his grip holding me up, I crumpled to the floor like a rag doll. The last thing I heard before blacking out was the panicked shouting of the doctor and the sound of footsteps fading away.
I woke up to the smell of disinfectant.
The hospital room was bathed in cold white light. Jonathan sat nearby, typing away on his laptop.
Noticing I'd woken, he closed it and picked up a bowl of porridge from the bedside table.