Loving Me Too Late

I forced myself to hold back the sting at the tip of my nose. Then, I raised my head to keep the tears in my eyes from falling and asked Henry, "Do you not know that I just donated 14 ounces of blood while pregnant? And now you want me to cook?"

The look of flattery on Henry's face quickly darkened, and he spoke impatiently. "Why are you dragging this out? It's just cooking, and you're acting so reluctant. It's just 14 ounces. If the doctor hadn't limited the amount, I would have asked them to take even more!"

I looked at him in disbelief.

Tears finally streamed down my face uncontrollably.

"So in your eyes, I'm just a walking blood bank. Is that it? Then why did you even marry me in the first place?"

Henry looked at me, and a flicker of panic flashed in his eyes.

Just as he was about to comfort me, his phone rang.

Queenie's delicate voice came through.

"I feel so awful, Henry. Can my sister cook for me? I know she just hates me and wants me dead. She probably wishes I would just disappear!"

From the phone, I could hear my parents quickly comforting her, followed by their scolding which was directed at me.

"Queenie, don't cry. Stephanie will cook for you. If she refuses, I'll kick her out of the family tomorrow!"

"Exactly. It's just cooking. It's not as if we're asking her to die."

Henry, who was already furious, suddenly grabbed my hair and yanked me toward the phone. He glared at me with bloodshot eyes.

"Are you going to do it or not? Answer Queenie now!"

I felt as if my scalp was being torn apart. The pain made my entire body tremble.

The man who I once saw as my savior was now like a demon. He was dragging me into an endless abyss.

I had completely lost all hope in him.

"I will. I'll do it!" I forced the words through clenched teeth.

Only then did Henry release me. He gave me a cold, expressionless glance before taking his phone and walking onto the balcony.

He left me sitting on the floor, utterly humiliated.

A long time passed before I finally forced myself to stand up and stagger toward the kitchen.

I didn't even notice when Henry returned.

Looking at me smugly, he said, "Stephanie, don't you think you're pathetic? If you'd just agreed in the first place, none of this would have happened. You always have to make a fuss before you give in."

I said nothing.

He used to love me so deeply.

He couldn't bear to see me suffer even the slightest anguish.

I once got into a minor car accident.

The other driver stormed over aggressively.

That day, Henry—usually so gentle and refined—lost his temper for the first time. He even got into a fight with the man on the street.

He told me no matter what happened, he would be my safest protector.

But now, the person who once swore to protect me had become the one who hurt me the most.

His eyes and heart had long since erased me.

By the time I finished cooking, it was already past midnight.

I hadn't slept all night.

Early in the morning, Henry took the food and left for the hospital.

I watched the clock until nine, then got up to leave.

Today was the appointment for the abortion.

At the hospital, I lay on the hospital bed while waiting for the nurse to wheel me into the operating room.

The doctor performing the procedure asked me with a trace of regret, "Mrs. Palmer, are you sure you don't want to reconsider?"

"No. Losing it is the best choice," I replied eerily calmly.

The anesthesia was injected into me.

As I was being pushed toward the operating room, Henry happened to walk by.

Henry saw me lying motionless on the bed. Half of my face was covered by the blanket.

His entire body suddenly trembled, and his legs seemed to go weak.

He quickly grabbed the nurse beside him and asked, "Who is that? What surgery is she having? Why is she going into the operating room?"