The Choice to Abort

By the fifth year of my marriage to River Grayson, I had stopped checking his call logs and chat records. Instead, I spent my nights drinking and partying with my girlfriends at the poolside bar.

When his ninety-ninth missed call lit up my screen, I let out a cold laugh and tossed my phone straight into the water.

It didn't take long before he came storming in. The moment he pulled the strawberry-scented condom out of my pocket, he turned grim and banned me from leaving the house after 7:00 PM.

"Joanne, you weren't like this before."

I thought back to last month, when I had run into him at the hospital. He had lied about being on a business trip out of town, but there he was, holding Yvonne Sinclair's hand. I still remembered his words.

"You lost your uterus from saving me back then. My sperm is perfectly fine. I'll give you a child—with your mother's help."

Now, staring into his furious eyes, I said coldly, "Don't worry. There's no going back for us anymore."

A Child of My Own

After returning from the hospital, I drifted through each day in a daze.

A few days later, River came home from his "business trip." He had no idea that I already knew about his plan to use a surrogate and pretended as if everything was perfectly normal. But I had already made quiet plans of my own. What he didn't know was that the woman, once told she might never conceive, was now carrying his child.

"Baby, you've been distracted all month. Are you still worried about not being able to get pregnant? I love you. As long as you're by my side, it doesn't matter if we never have children." His gentle voice filled my ears. I stared blankly at him, only to notice the book in his hands—The Pregnancy Guide.

The memory of the hospital surged up all at once, and a bitter smile tugged at my lips.

River must have noticed the change in my expression because he quickly tried to cover the book title. "It's for a distant relative—an aunt of mine. She's having a geriatric pregnancy, and her health is fragile. I thought I'd study up so I could be of some help."

His excuse hit me like a knife, and my throat tightened as I rasped, "River, since when do you have some distant aunt pregnant at that age? And even if you did, why would you need to take care of her personally?"

Before the words had even settled, my mother-in-law's voice cut in, sharp and mocking as she washed fruit at the sink. "What does it matter if she's a distant relative or not? A woman her age can still get pregnant, which is more than I can say for you.

"Some women are just infertile, so of course they are jealous of pregnant women! If my son hadn't liked you so much, I would've told him to divorce you