He was hugging me so tightly that I could hardly breathe.
"Samuel, I'm not leaving. Never leaving."
Close to me, his warm breath sprayed on my face, tickling me. I tilted my face up towards his lips.
But just as we were about to kiss, his eyes suddenly cleared and he pushed me away heavily.
"You're not the Catherine I know. You are fucking fake, fake!"
Before I could react, he pounced on me and pressed me down on the bed.
His brows were furrowed and his eyes were bloodshot.
He grabbed my neck and roared at me, "Give it back to me! Give me the real Catherine!"
He let go and began to tear the clothes on my chest frantically. "Everything you have is fucking fake, even your feelings are fake. You plotted against me falling in love, plotted against me getting married and the next step is to have a baby? Will having a child finally make you leave me alone?"
I couldn't refute him. What he said was true, yet not entirely.
I let him vent his frustrations on me.
An hour later, blood kept flowing from beneath me uncontrollably.
Seeing me drenched in cold sweat and nearly fainting, he finally realized something was wrong.
I no longer had the strength to respond and slowly closed my eyes. I lost our first and possibly our last, child and it was a man-made accident.
I deceived Samuel once again, calculated against him once more.
I had known for a while that I was pregnant. From the moment I found out, I understood that this child was never meant to be mine.
My body was weak and naturally predisposed to miscarriages, so even if I got pregnant, there was a high chance of a natural miscarriage.
The likelihood of a smooth delivery with both mother and child safe was nearly zero. Given my physical condition, the doctor advised against keeping the baby, as it posed a risk to my own health.
But I insisted on keeping it.
I calculated and created an "accident," hoping that the deeply disappointed Samuel would turn around and feel pity for me.
In the VIP ward, the room was filled with the smell of disinfectant and the monitoring equipment beeped steadily.
Samuel looked at me without saying a word. He clenched his fists, the veins on the back of his hands bulging.
Finally, he spoke, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were pregnant …"
"It's okay." I interrupted him before he could continue.
"Alright."
He seemed truly remorseful, lowering his head and saying nothing more.
The ward was deathly silent.