During my pregnancy, I was burning with a fever, my temperature spiking to 102.2°F. Yet my husband, Bernard Larson, told me he was going on a business trip.
I begged him to buy me some medicine, but he coldly hung up the phone.
"If you're sick, go see a doctor. I'm busy. If I don't make money, how are you and the baby going to live?"
In the dead of night, I opened Twitter and saw a post from someone who had once bullied me.
The post read: [Someone who cares about you will rush to see you, even across an entire city.]
The image attached was of a hand holding a paper bag of medicine.
And that hand was wearing the watch I had given Bernard as an anniversary gift.
I stared at the phone, now disconnected, and felt my heart sink.
I tried calling Bernard again, but his phone was turned off.
Struggling to get up, I found the thermometer in the drawer. After checking my temperature, I realized it had climbed to 103.2°F.
I forced myself to stay upright and rummaged through the medicine cabinet. But after reading the labels, I found that none of the medications were safe for a pregnant woman.
I gently touched my slightly swollen belly, and suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my back.
Hurriedly, I lay back down on the bed.
Bernard and I had been in love for three years, married for five. The baby in my belly was conceived through IVF after countless injections and doses of heparin, and now, at five months along, I was desperate to protect it.
I didn't dare fall asleep. I kept taking deep breaths and changing out the cooling patches. The room's temperature was set to 64°F, but my fever only seemed to rise.
To distract myself, I checked my social media again.
My hand trembled when I saw Annika Morris' post, causing my phone to slip from my grasp.
I quickly picked it up.
Annika's latest post read: [Someone who cares about you will rush to see you, even across an entire city.]
The attached photo was of a hand holding a paper bag of medicine.
And the watch on that hand was the one I had given Bernard as an anniversary gift.
Our initials were even engraved on the back of it.
So, he wasn't truly busy. He wasn't going on a business trip. He had flown to another city in the dead of night just to deliver medicine to the person who had once bullied me.
He knew all about the pain I had endured from that time, yet he still chose Annika without hesitation.
It felt like a knife had pierced through my heart, the pain so intense that I could hardly breathe.
Memories flooded back like a tidal wave, bringing with them all the dark moments of my past as if demons from those small, suffocating spaces were tearing at my soul.
Another sharp pain surged through my abdomen.
I pulled back the blanket and saw a warm fluid flowing down my thighs, staining the pristine white sheets with bright red.
Frantically, I dialed emergency services.
By the time I arrived at the hospital, I was curled into a ball, drenched in sweat.
"The baby no longer has a heartbeat."
The doctor's words left me frozen.
"You developed a high fever due to the flu, and the baby didn't make it. We need to perform a procedure now to avoid infection. Please notify your family."
"No, that's impossible. This afternoon, my baby was still moving. He was responding to me. I could feel his heartbeat. How could he be gone just like that?"
Tears streamed down my face as I lay on the hospital bed, muttering to myself. Then, in a desperate frenzy, I grabbed the doctor's arm.
"Please, I'm begging you, save my baby. He still has a heartbeat. I can feel it."
The doctor looked at me with pity and gently pried my hand away.
"Ma'am, I'm so sorry for your loss. There's no longer any sign of life."
As I watched the doctor walk away, a deep sense of helplessness and despair washed over me.
"The procedure requires a family member's signature. Mrs. Larson, when will your family arrive?"
The nurse stood nearby, holding the consent form.
I pulled out my phone and tried calling Bernard again.
Still, no one answered.
2The cold air in the operating room made me shiver uncontrollably. The harsh light of the surgical lamp beamed down, making it impossible for me to keep my eyes open.
I had a dream.
In the dream, I was locked in the corner of a public restroom, trembling.
"Please, let me out. I have a dance competition today, I can't miss it. Please."
Suddenly, someone poured a bucket of cold water over my head. I felt a biting chill rush through my entire body.
That December was unusually cold.
"You think someone like you can compete in a dance contest? Do you even know what you look like? Let me warn you, if you try to stand out again, next time it won't just be locking you in the bathroom."
Annika's voice echoed from outside the door, followed by cruel laughter.
After the sound of footsteps faded, I climbed onto the toilet and scrambled over the top of the stall.
In my rush to jump down, I twisted my ankle.
Miserably, I hauled my waterlogged body out of the restroom, looking like a drowned rat.
"Look, isn't that Joy? What happened to her?"
"I heard she was supposed to represent the school at the city's dance competition today. The officials are all looking for her."
"Poor girl. We better keep our distance from her. She must've crossed someone. We don't want to get involved."
My ankle throbbed with sharp pain. Alone, I limped toward the administrative office.
As soon as I stepped inside, a book was thrown at me.
"Where have you been? Do you know how important today's competition is?"
Everyone in the office turned to look at me with cold, indifferent eyes. Their gaze sent a chill through me.
"Annika locked me in the restroom and poured water on me. She's the reason I couldn't compete," I tried to explain.
"Stop lying. You're the one with the problem, and now you're trying to blame Annika. Annika's father is a well-known businessman in this city. Why would she bother bullying someone like you?
"Even if what you're saying is true, the problem must still be with you. Why else would she pick on you and not anyone else?"
The teacher's sharp words felt like another bucket of cold water, chilling me to the bone.
"Go home and write a ten-thousand-word self-reflection. Tomorrow, we'll announce your punishment publicly, and you'll receive a major demerit."
I clenched my fists tightly, full of grievances, wanting to cry but too scared to.
Suddenly, a sharp pain radiated from my lower abdomen, and a warm liquid started to run down my leg.
Everyone stared at me with disdain.
"What are you still standing here for? Get out! Just looking at you makes me sick. Look at the mess you've made."
I looked down and saw that my period had started early.
Mortified, I quickly fled the office. As I left, people avoided me as if I were the plague, some even pinching their noses and waving their hands through the air.
"What's that smell? It's disgusting."
"Look at her pants. They're covered in blood. She's filthy. She carries that stench of poverty from the countryside."
"What a disgrace. I don't even want to admit I know her. Just going to the same school as her is embarrassing."
I stood frozen in place, gripping the hem of my shirt tightly, feeling overwhelmed by the fear and humiliation that was about to drown me.
At that moment, someone appeared, like a beam of light cutting through the darkness.
Bernard rushed forward, taking off his jacket and tying it around my waist, shielding me from the stares.
"What are you all looking at? Haven't you seen this before? Don't you girls all get your periods? Stop being so mean."
3"Mrs. Larson, wake up."
The nurse's voice called to me, pulling me from the haze. I slowly opened my eyes.
"The surgery was successful, but the anesthesia hasn't fully worn off yet. You need to stay awake. Let us know if you feel any discomfort."
She hooked up a new IV drip, noted down my condition, and then quietly left the room.
I stared at the pristine white walls of the hospital room, my hand instinctively moving to my now-flat stomach.
There was no longer any life stirring there.
In the afternoon, after my IV drip had finished, the nurse told me to go to the hall to collect my medication.
As soon as I stepped into the hallway, I saw a familiar figure.
Bernard was coming down the escalator, his arm wrapped around Annika. They were laughing together, looking so content.
"I told you I'm fine, but you insisted on coming early. You're just making things harder for yourself," Annika teased, wiping the sweat from Bernard's forehead with a tender gesture.
"Look at you, flying all the way there in the middle of the night, and now rushing back here with me. Aren't you tired?"
"How could I be tired when it's for you? Your health is the most important thing to me."
Bernard's hand gripped Annika's tightly, their gazes locking with a tenderness that cut deep.
I clutched the prescription slip in my hand, watching them. My heart felt like it was being torn apart over and over again, the pain so intense that I had grown numb to it.
"Isn't that Joy?"
Annika stepped off the elevator. The moment I saw her, I instinctively wanted to hide.
"What are you doing here?"
Bernard's brow furrowed as he walked swiftly toward me.
"Aren't you supposed to be at home resting? What are you doing at the hospital? Are you following me?"
Annika came over as well, and I instinctively lowered my head.
"I told you, I'm sick," I whispered.
"Joy, what's wrong? I heard you're pregnant. You need to take better care of yourself!"
Annika reached out to pat my shoulder, but I flinched away, panic rushing through me.
"Don't touch me."
Annika jumped back, startled, and then looked at Bernard with an expression of hurt.
"Bernard, I was just trying to be kind to Joy. I didn't expect her to react like that."
Bernard immediately shielded her, glaring at me.
"Joy, what's gotten into you?"
Tears blurred my vision as I looked up, fixing my gaze on Bernard. "Why are you with her? You know what she did to me. Why did you choose her?"
A flicker of impatience crossed Bernard's face.
"High school was a long time ago. It's normal that kids fool around. Why are you still holding onto that? You're being so petty."
Annika clung to Bernard's sleeve, wearing an innocent expression.
"Bernard, I was just joking with Joy back then. I didn't know it would affect her so much. If it bothers her, I'll apologize."
She stepped forward, preparing to bow in apology.
Bernard quickly grabbed her hand.
"You don't need to apologize. You didn't do anything wrong, so why should you say sorry?"
Then he turned back to me.
"Joy, why have you become so bitter? Annika hasn't been feeling well, and now you're making a scene just to upset her?"
I clenched my fists, staring at the man I once loved so deeply.
He was telling me that the person who hurt me had done nothing wrong.
"She's bleeding."
Suddenly, someone in the crowd shouted. I looked down to see a large stain of blood soaking through my pants.
Bernard's face twisted in disgust.
"How can you still be so embarrassed, just like in high school? You didn't even prepare for your period?"
Then, as if realizing something, he turned pale and looked at me in horror.
"Aren't you pregnant? Why are you bleeding?"