After My Husband Chose His Robot Over Our Baby

My husband, Kenneth Garza, is a bionic robot engineer.

Yesterday, he brought home a female robot. When I slipped in the bathroom and blood started cascading down my legs, he completely ignored me. Instead, he frantically picked up the equally soaked robot, muttering, "Robots can't touch water, or they'll completely break down. I must take her to the lab for a check-up immediately!" Without a backward glance, he left.

The next day, I discovered an old diary under the bed in our bedroom. On the cover was an intimate photo of Kenneth with a woman I'd never seen before, but she looked exactly like the robot he brought home. It turns out she was his first love, the one he'd never forgotten, Hope Meyer. Closing the diary, I calmly dialed a number. "Professor Hall, I've made up my mind. In three days, I'll move to Belfast and officially join your team."

"Wade, that's fantastic news! Looking forward to having you onboard!" As soon as the call ended, the door opened; Kenneth was back. His brows were slightly furrowed, and his eyes were glued to his phone. The black shirt he wore was the same as yesterday, proof that he hadn't come home last night. He looked up, catching a glimpse of me.

"Why do you look so pale?" I mentioned that I hadn't slept well last night. He barely acknowledged it, still engrossed in his screen. Keeping my head down, I swallowed the heartache. I knew he was just like before, never taking my words seriously.

Instead of confronting him or questioning his whereabouts, I went to the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee and a small piece of spiced honey cake. Kenneth, out of habit, came to the dining table but noticed I hadn't prepared his share like usual. Finally, his gaze shifted from his phone to me.

"Monica, I've checked your schedule. You lost that much blood because of your cycle; just rest a few days and you'll be fine. But if a robot gets soaked significantly, it could be permanently damaged. You wouldn’t want my years of research to be ruined, would you?"

Holding my fork, my heart twisted painfully. Yesterday, when I slipped in the bathroom and hit my belly, I was bleeding heavily. At the hospital, I was told I was a month pregnant, and the fall caused a miscarriage. The doctor said that if I'd been brought in sooner, maybe the baby could have been saved. Yet, while I lay on the floor, pleading for him to take me to the hospital, Kenneth didn't even look at me. Instead, he hurriedly held the soaked robot close and left without another word. In all our years of marriage, I'd never seen him so anxious. Unfortunately, it wasn't for me.

Seeing I wasn't responding and instead lost in thought, Kenneth's brows furrowed as he was about to speak. Just then, his phone rang. Right in front of me, he answered the video call; the