I Saw the Comments — Now He’s Finished

The floating comments in my mind didn't stop.

[See? Now she even has to be their delivery girl.]

[When will Camille figure it out? That she's just part of Nigel and Alice's little game?]

I shook my head hard, convinced it was just my imagination, but the words kept coming.

[Camille would do anything to win Nigel over. You don't even need to guess.]

[Camille climbed into his bed back then—this is just karma catching up to her.]

[Wake up, Camille! Nigel never loved you.]

[And yet, Camille's still dumb enough to think confessing she's the hospital director's daughter will somehow fix things!]

It wasn't my imagination. The words were there, and their weight pressed down on me, leaving me dazed and speechless.

I had been married to Nigel Park for only a year. He wasn't romantic, but he was thoughtful—at least, I thought so.

He avoided company events if women were present, just to keep me at ease. He never lost his temper with me, and he even remembered the exact dates of my periods.

Before seeing these floating comments, I genuinely believed we were as happy as everyone said. I even planned to tell him my secret tonight.

But now, my hands trembled as I met his eyes. He frowned, his voice sharp. "Camille? Did you hear me?"

Snapping back to reality, I glanced at Alice, the pregnant woman standing beside him. My voice shook. "How come I never knew you had a cousin?"

His eyes darted away from mine, landing instead on Alice.

Before he could answer, Alice leaned lightly against him. "I won't stay long. Once I find a job, I'll leave."

Nigel steadied her immediately, his tone tinged with reproach. "What are you saying? You're this far along—where would you even go?"

"It's better if you stay," he added. "Camille can take care of you."

I stared at Alice's swollen belly, a dull ache spreading in my chest. "If things are already this bad, why have the baby? It'll only suffer after it's born. How about this? I know a doctor. I can make an appointment for you to terminate the pregnancy."

I picked up my phone to make the call, but before I could dial, Nigel slapped it out of my hand.

"Camille! Are you insane?!"

The room fell silent. It was the first time he had ever yelled at me.

My hand froze midair. Tears welled up, blurring my vision. Maybe the comments were right after all.

Realizing his outburst, Nigel quickly retrieved the phone and softened his voice. "Camille, I just don't want you to make a mistake you'll regret. Please don't overthink this."

I fought to suppress my emotions, instinctively stepping back to avoid his touch. "I'm tired. Let's talk about this tomorrow."

The floating comments erupted again.

[What's going on? This doesn't seem like the Camille I know!]

[Isn't she supposed to worship Nigel like a loyal puppy?]

[Did Camille figure something out?!]

Nigel froze too, clearly unprepared for my response. His expression darkened, eyes sharp with suspicion. "It's already past eleven. Are you really going to leave Alice outside? I've already explained everything to you. How long are you planning to drag this out?"

Alice huddled behind him, her voice trembling, eyes red. "I know you look down on me for being unmarried and pregnant, but I can't be as heartless as you."

Ignoring my protests, Nigel guided her gently to the sofa, his voice low and comforting. "Don't worry. She's never been pregnant—she doesn't understand what it's like to be a mother."

His words pierced me like a needle.

Three years of dating, one year of marriage—I had been pregnant before. Again and again. And each time, I lost the baby. From the initial excitement to numb despair, the cycle repeated until I stopped hoping.

Nigel knew. He knew, yet here he was, throwing those words at me so carelessly, cutting my heart open without hesitation.

I stared at him, tears spilling uncontrollably.

So the comments were right. He never loved me.

Exhausted, I asked, "If you've already decided to let her stay, why pretend to ask for my opinion?"

Without waiting for his answer, I turned and walked back to the bedroom.

Sitting down, I placed a hand over my stomach. My thoughts spiraled as I whispered silently, "Nigel, I'll let you know how it feels to be the one responsible for ending a life."