Chapter 1
On my birthday, my husband’s secretary, Catherine, handed me a bouquet of flowers-a gesture that would cost me everything. Unbeknownst to her, I’m severely allergic to pollen, and the exposure triggered a reaction so severe that I lost the baby I was carrying. A colleague called my husband, Grady, but his response was chilling. ‘What’s the big deal? I already sent her a gift. Why the fuss?’ he snapped, his tone dripping with indifference.
When the doctor insisted on a family member’s signature for the procedure, Grady brushed it off. ‘It’s just an allergy, isn’t it? Do I really need to be there?’ he scoffed, his voice cold and detached. Meanwhile, I faintly overheard him comforting Catherine, whose tears seemed to matter far more than my pain.
After the surgery, I scrolled through Instagram, only to stumble upon Catherine’s post. ‘Love is like nurturing flowers; I’ve found the one who truly cherishes me, she captioned a photo of herself with Grady, holding an even larger bouquet than the one she’d given me. It hit me then-the so-called gift was nothing more than a hand-me-down from her. A bitter laugh escaped me as I left a comment: ‘Wishing you a lifetime of happiness and many children.’
Within minutes, Grady called. ‘Matilda, what are you doing? Delete that post now! People will get the wrong idea,’ he barked. ‘How is this supposed to help Catherine find a boyfriend? Apologize to her immediately!’ His voice was sharp, cutting through me as if he’d forgotten I was lying in a hospital bed, recovering from a life-threatening ordeal.
Before I could respond, Catherine’s sugary voice chimed in. ‘Grady, please don’t yell at Matilda. I’m sure she didn’t mean any harm. She doesn’t need to apologize.’ Grady’s tone softened instantly, a stark contrast to the harshness he’d shown me. ‘When someone makes a mistake, they should own up to it. You don’t need to defend her,’ he said, his words dripping with misplaced chivalry.
Catherine cooed, ‘I never realized how principled you are, Grady. I’d be lucky to find a boyfriend like you someday.’ Her words left me speechless. Grady, once a name only I could call, now belonged to her too. When had I stopped being his exception?
The hospital room was silent, their voices echoing through my phone. ‘Hey, Matilda, did you hear me? Stop acting like you don’t understand,’ Grady snapped. ‘It’s convenient that you and Catherine share the same birthday; we’ll just celebrate together. Be ready by 6:30 tonight.’ He hung up without giving me a chance to respond.
Today was supposed to be my birthday, but instead, I lay in a hospital bed, my heart shattered. Earlier, at the office, Catherine had handed me a gift-a small box containing a bouquet. By the time I realized what it was, it was too late. I felt the suffocating grip of my allergy take hold, and I passed out.
My colleagues rushed me to the hospital. After resuscitation, the doctor explained that to save my life, I needed medication that would terminate my pregnancy. I had planned to tell Grady tonight, to share the news of our child. But he had other plans-plans that didn’t include me.
Tears welled up as I whispered to the doctor, ‘Then… let’s proceed with the termination.’ The words tasted like ash in my mouth, but I had no choice. Tonight, as Grady celebrated with Catherine, I grieved alone in the sterile silence of the hospital room.
