My Marriage Runs on His Approval Process

After being rushed to the hospital by ambulance, I endured labor pains for a full day and night. The sheets on the delivery bed grew damp, then dried out again.

Finally, I heard the doctor exclaim, "The baby's here! Time of birth, 8:57 am. Seven pounds, six ounces. And… She's a girl."

As sweat trickled down my forehead, I managed a relieved smile.

"Nathan said… He said he wanted a daughter."

An eerie silence fell over the room. The doctor and nurses exchanged uneasy glances, and a sudden, instinctive panic gripped me.

"Why… Why isn't she crying?"

The doctor pressed her lips together and placed the baby in my arms. "She's no longer breathing. I'm sorry. You should hold her."

Though the labor pains had subsided, my body began to tremble uncontrollably.

The baby was tiny and perfectly still, as if she were merely asleep in my arms. The doctor's breath hitched, her voice tinged with deep regret.

"She's just as beautiful as you are. Perhaps you should ask the father to come and take a look?"

I tightened my hold on the baby and dialed Nathan Ritter's number. But by the second ring, the line was locked.

Nathan always allowed me only one chance to reach him each week, not wanting me to disturb him otherwise. Whether he answered or not, the line would automatically lock after a single attempt.

I looked at the baby, whose features bore a striking resemblance to Nathan's, and my fingertips turned white from how hard I was trembling.

My child never even got to see her father's face.

I tapped into Miranda Hooper's social media, and a post she had just shared on her social feed popped up. The photo showed her leaning in very close to Nathan.

As it turned out, the man who had told me yesterday he was "tied up with official approval processes" had spent the entire day gallivanting around trendy, popular café spots with Miranda, his personal secretary.

I was completely frozen. A chill settled over me, as if my eyelashes had frosted over.

The doctor asked, with great caution, "Ms. Winters, the baby's father—"

I switched off my phone. "There's no need to wait for him. He won't be coming."

That night, I held my cold, lifeless baby and slept through until the next morning.

At dawn the next day, I returned home to retrieve the documents needed to handle the rest of the proper hospital procedures. But as I pushed open the door, I saw Miranda dressed in a red spaghetti-strap slip dress, standing on tiptoe to tie Nathan's necktie.

Nathan's expression remained calm even as he heard me entering through the front door.

"So, you've finally decided to come back, Anastasia Winters?"

Miranda blushed and looked at me shyly.

"Oh, you're back! Mr. Ritter stepped in to drink for me at a business event last night, and since no one else was home, I stayed the night to look after him.

"My clothes also happened to get dirty, so I just grabbed something from your pile of clothes to wear. I hope you don't mind."

I felt as if my heart were bleeding seeing them in such an intimate pose. That slip dress was what I wore on my wedding night. It had long been tucked away at the bottom of a trunk, so there was no way she could have just…

Could it really be such a coincidence?

I touched my empty abdomen. A little life once grew there. But now, it was just a cold, chilling emptiness.

"So, you two slept together last night. Is that it?" I said flatly.

At these words, Nathan immediately stepped in front of Miranda, shielding her.

"Mimi has already explained that she was just taking care of me, Anastasia. You were the one who stormed off in a huff these past two days, using our child as leverage. Have you finally come to your senses now that you're back?"

I swayed on my feet, barely managing to steady myself.

"What exactly am I supposed to have 'come to my senses' about?" I retorted.

Nathan frowned, his tone like that of someone chiding an unruly kid.

"You need to understand that even company employees have to follow proper procedures. As my wife, you should be setting an example for them."

Just then, Miranda pointed at me.

"Mrs. Ritter! Did you go off and give birth on your own just to make a point? You shouldn't be so reckless even if you wanted Mr. Ritter's company! How could you not have said a word to him about something so important?"

My fingernails dug into my own skin, drawing blood.

Was I the one who purposely withheld the information from him? He was the one too busy drinking for her and not answering my call!

"You gave birth?"

Only then did Nathan seem to notice. He tossed a blanket toward me and immediately began scolding me even more.

"Why the hell are you running around after having just given birth? If you end up with postpartum health issues later, don't come crying to me demanding I take care of you."

As he spoke, he reached out to hug me, but my stomach churned with bile, and I felt nothing but an intense, visceral revulsion.

So, for the first time ever, I stepped aside and avoided his touch.