Chapter 2

Abigail

As I sat there on the examination table, the sharp antiseptic scent in the hospital room pricked at my senses. The doctor asked me seriously, "Are you here alone?"

"Yes, my family, they’re all busy," I instinctively made an excuse for Conrad. Though the truth was, he and the family doctor were at home, tending to Susanna, who wasn’t even injured but wouldn’t stop crying. Their actions today hurt me more deeply than any shattered fragments. It made me feel that instead of staying there hoping for help, I might as well come to the hospital alone to take care of my wounds.

The doctor glanced up, his brows knitting together as he took in my pale face and trembling hands. He’d been treating me in silence for a few minutes now, but I could sense his growing concern. He held my gaze with patience, waiting for me to take a breath and settle myself. 

“Are you all right?” His voice was soft as if he knew that just the act of being in the same room as this open wound was almost too much for me. 

I forced a tight smile, nodding, though I couldn’t bring myself to answer.

The doctor’s expression softened. “It’s clear you’re not very comfortable around blood. You don’t have to be brave about it with me.”

I nodded weakly.

There was a knock at the door, and a nurse stepped in, holding a file. She handed it to the doctor, who thanked her with a nod before flipping it open. 

The doctor held the report, his brows furrowed tightly. He said, "Mrs. Robinson, this is your health examination report." His seriousness made me instinctively think of something bad, could it be cancer? Considering my mother’s condition, it wasn’t impossible... 

"You’re pregnant." 

I stared at him, my mind scrambling to process what I’d just heard. 

“You’re sure?”  

“Quite sure. Congratulations. You’re a few weeks along.” 

“That’s…that’s wonderful,” I said, my voice trembling slightly.

“It is,” He carefully chose his words. "Your wound needs stitching, but according to the report, your current health condition may not be ideal. Local anesthesia carries some risks. Would you like me to inform Mr. Robinson about this?"  

My heart sank instantly. That meant I would have to undergo stitching without anesthesia, or risk harming the baby. "No, there’s no need to inform him. I can handle it." 

I placed my hand on my belly. My baby, I’m sorry you came at the wrong time, but I will protect you no matter what. Conrad doesn’t need to know about my pregnancy now, unless his eyes move away from Susanna.

The doctor’s gaze was full of pity, but he didn’t press further. 

I sent a text to Conrad explaining the situation, still holding onto a faint hope that he would be there to hold my hand when I went into surgery. But by the time the doctor told me we could begin, I still hadn’t received any news from him.

The doctor reminded me. "Be careful not to get the wound wet. The stitches can be removed in seven days. Oh, and please make sure to rest properly, and avoid excessive fatigue and stress that could harm the baby’s health."

The advice felt almost ironic, given everything happening at home. 

At that moment, my phone rang. It was Alexander’'s assistant, Daniel? Oh, it turned out that while I was texting, I had accidentally sent the message to Alexander as well. He handles all messages related to Alexander, so he saw it. I apologized and explained it was a misunderstanding. He said it was fine and that he was already parked outside the hospital. I appreciated his kindness, and also his silence when he saw me alone and didn’t press any further.

Just as I was almost home, Conrad's call finally came through.

“Abigail?” Conrad’s voice was brisk, tinged with irritation. “Where are you? Why aren’t you home?” 

I gripped the phone tightly, the heat rising in my chest. “Hospital. Where else could I go after bleeding from the plate Susanna threw?” 

"What, you're bleeding? " After a moment, Conrad's voice came through, "I just saw your message. I'm coming over right now. I'm so sorry I didn’t realize…."

"No need," I said as I opened the door. "I’m home."

His face full of worry and guilt calmed my anger, at least for a moment. “Abigail…I’m sorry. I should have been there for you.” 

I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow even to my own ears. “Should have? Conrad, you should trust your wife, at least listen to me! ” 

He stepped forward and hugged me tightly, his deep voice vibrating through his chest as it reached my ear. "It’s all my fault. I’ve been stuck in the aftermath of Alexander’s accident. You know how much Alexander cared for us, how much he sacrificed to make sure this family stayed strong. I feel like it’s my responsibility to look after her now, for his sake. When Susanna cried, I thought it was you... I misunderstood you, and made you go to the hospital alone..." He sat me down on the sofa, took my hand, and gently fixed my slightly messy hair.

"So it was all a misunderstanding today... " His warmth surrounded me, and the thorn in my heart disappeared. 

"There won’t be a next time, I promise. Abigail. You’re my wife. You’re my priority"

In the reflection of his eyes, I saw my own blushing face. He always knew I had no defense against that look of his.

Back at the party where we first met, he approached me with that exact same expression. Every girl there was sneaking glances at him, but he didn’t spare anyone else a look. He walked straight toward me. Even though my mother worried that the gap between our families might cause problems in my marriage, I fell for him and said yes to his proposal without hesitation. Over the years, he has been the perfect husband. What just happened must be because he’s been under so much stress lately. I should be understanding and supportive of him.

"Let’s be more careful with pregnant women," he said, caressing my cheek. Before I could respond, his hand moved lower, and his tone turned suggestive. "When you have a child, I’ll be more careful, so can we…"

I quickly swatted his hand away and laughed. "I just came from the hospital! Are you that eager, Daddy?"

He lay down beside me, his voice low. "Do you remember what we talked about before? I want a daughter. She’ll be the cutest little princess, with blue eyes and chestnut-colored hair."

I pushed him away, stopping him from trying to "help" me take a bath. A few more months, and our dream would finally come true. The joy was so overwhelming that I forgot to correct Conrad—how could we, neither of us with blue eyes, possibly have a child with blue ones?

When I pushed open the bedroom door, I thought about how I’d tell him about the baby. Maybe on my birthday. 

But when I opened the door to our bedroom, Someone was there. 

The light fell on her brown hair, making her look as if she were glowing.She stood in front of my vanity, casually inspecting one of my necklaces as though it belonged to her. She turned at the sound of the door, her face breaking into a bright smile, but her blue eyes were filled with indifference. “Oh, Abigail! I didn’t hear you come in.”

It was Susanna. She's in my bedroom.