As he fussed about me and the growing life inside me, I foolishly voiced out how I wish he was the father of my unborn child.
“I wouldn’t mind.” He said seriously.
“Hey! That was just wistful thinking. I don’t want to impose on you.” I told him.
“You can impose on me about anything. You can call on me anytime you need me.” He spoke sincerely.
“If only my husband would be this attentive… even a quarter of this kind of attention will make me feel happy.” I felt tears welling up as I spoke.
“Now, now, no tears. The baby would feel sad, too.” Maximus gently wiped the corner of my eyes with his thumb.
After the doctor gave me a clean bill of health, Maximus safely escorted me back home, with my loyal house staff closely trailing after us.
Still believing that he cared, I called Cain to let him know what happened. Unexpectedly, it was father that answered. Cain can’t take calls because he’s gravely injured and was rushed to the hospital.
“Where is he now???” I frantically asked.
“No need to fuss. Your husband is in good hands.” My father said.
“I am his wife. In dire situations, it is only expected that I am by his side.” I told him.
“But your husband isn’t expecting you to.” He bluntly said.
“What do you mean isn’t expecting me to?” I asked him.
“Shelly is personally taking care of him. You’ll be an unnecessary excess.” My father said, ignoring the fact that I am Cain’s wife.
I ended the call and felt tears welling from my eyes again.
My heart sank, even the right to take care of my husband was taken over by my sister. Divorce is imminent between Cain and me.
I remembered Maximus’ words, if I’m sad I’m making my baby feel sad, too.
Wiping my tears, I lovingly held my womb; all is not lost. With the birth of our son, Cain will realize that our marriage is worth keeping.
I held onto that false hope.
On my third trimester of pregnancy, Maximus frequented my home. Bringing baby things here and there. My staff are starting to joke around, not in a malicious manner, but in admiration of his earnestness.
“Master Maximus, need we remind you that the child isn’t yours?” my butler jokingly asked him.
“Oh, it isn’t?” He jabbed.
“It is not!” My head maid faked a stern reply, then added exaggeratedly “Unfortunately so.”