Spring's Late Tide Was Never Yours

We had been married for five years, but Chuck Gorman spent more than half his time at the condo opposite the river.

He claimed that his older brother, Calvin, had passed away at a young age, leaving behind his widow, who had no one to depend on, and that as Calvin's brother, he was responsible for taking care of both families. This was a Gorman family value of upholding loyalty and kinship.

I had believed his words then.

To help him uphold his loyalty and dignity, I tolerated it whenever he was absent during important holidays and said nothing when he split his time between his sister-in-law and me during Christmas dinner. I even had to hold back my tongue when others mocked me for being a weak woman who was willing to 'share her husband'.

However, Chuck had always been gentle yet distant when he spoke to me.

This continued until we were involved in an accident with several collisions. The car we were in was wrecked.

As I shielded my heavily pregnant belly, I broke out in cold sweat from the pain. I kept hitting the window while shouting, "Chuck! Save the baby…"

Chuck climbed out from the driver's seat and glanced at my bleeding body, only to turn away to pry open the car door of the back seat. He shielded Sandi Lemming tightly in his arms, holding her against his chest despite her suffering only minor scratches on the forehead.

"Don't look, Sandi. It's okay. I'm right here."

He patted her gently on the back while comforting her over and over to calm her nerves.

As for me, I was stuck inside the car due to the dented car door.

I realized that it was not loyalty and kinship he was practising. He was just unable to see Sandi come to harm at all.

The ambulance arrived at the scene as firefighters were trying to unclamp me from the car door using hydraulic pliers.

I looked down below my car seat to see my blood while my abdomen throbbed with intense pain. My hands were placed protectively around my belly, which contained the baby I had been carrying for seven months, and I wondered if it was still moving.

While I was being transported limply into the ambulance on a gurney, the paramedic placed an oxygen mask over my face while shouting out, "Where's her family? How long has she been pregnant? Is there any information about her pregnancy?"

Chuck Gorman was busy wiping the minor wound on Sandi Lemming's temple with a piece of tissue as the paramedic shouted the question again. He looked at me and told the paramedic, "The baby is 29 weeks old… That's all I know about it."

That was all he knew about it.

Every time I returned from the gynaecologist, I would place the report in the second drawer of the table inside the study, but he never looked at any of the reports. Yet, when it came to