I never wanted her to feel pressured, so I always told her to let nature take its course. But deep down, I wanted a child more than anything.
No matter how hard I racked my brain, I couldn't understand why Elaine would get an abortion.
The rest of the meal tasted like cardboard. My stomach churned the entire time.
Halfway through dinner, I made up an excuse about something at home and left in a hurry.
The moment I got back, I tore through the apartment, searching for any trace of the procedure.
I finally found it in the study's wastebasket: an ultrasound printout dated last Friday.
I sat in the living room staring at the crumpled slip of paper on the table. She'd made the decision to terminate in a single day.
The urge to call Elaine and demand answers hit a breaking point.
The number you have dialed is currently unavailable...
Every attempt, the same result. The call was rejected.
My mind drifted back to that afternoon, when Elaine had bailed on me yet again.
"Charles, I have to go out with Mr. Gray tonight to discuss a contract. Just go to the reunion without me."
When Elaine had come to the engineering department to tell me that, my mood had already bottomed out.
I couldn't even count how many times she'd canceled on me at the last minute anymore. The excuse was always the same: overtime, a contract negotiation, a client dinner.
Elaine had gone from being genuinely apologetic the first few times to treating it like it was perfectly normal. And I'd gone from accepting it with a smile to barely being able to stomach it.
We always ended up fighting about it.
But this time, I said nothing.
"Got it."
Elaine glanced at me with a flicker of surprise, but it wasn't long before her phone rang.
It was Mr. Gray, summoning her.
She grabbed her purse and rushed out without so much as a goodbye.
It was always like this. The moment Mr. Gray called, she'd drop every plan she had with me.
She'd left me alone in the hospital with a hundred-and-four-degree fever, vanishing for an entire week.
Even in bed, she'd shove me aside to answer his calls, pull her clothes on, and say she had to go entertain a client.
And whenever I pushed back, she'd say it was for work. That I was petty. That I didn't have the backbone of a real man.
I tossed my phone aside and walked out onto the balcony for some air.
I smoked one cigarette after another, but the restlessness gnawing at my chest wouldn't let up.