She Can Have Him

When the anaesthesia wore off and I woke up again, it was already the next afternoon.

I lifted my hand and caressed my stomach, which had become flat. My sleeve slid down because of the movement, revealing the bruised and swollen back of my hand.

Ever since I was little, I had always been absolutely terrified of being injected with needles, yet I endured more than 300 injections to save the baby Charles and I had conceived.

Yet, in the twenty-seven hours between me being rushed into surgery last night and now, he hadn't returned.

As if on cue, my mobile phone rang with a notification from where it lay on the bedside cabinet.

It was a message from Charles, yet not one asking about my nor the baby's health. No, it was a simple voice message that said, "Sue got a fever after being on the rooftop for so long last night. Her parents are out of town, and her brother doesn't care for her, so I'm the only person who can help her out. What a hassle."

Even though he said it was a hassle, there was a small hint of fondness in the way he spoke, so imperceptible that I doubt even he realized it was there.

Looking at his profile picture, which had been changed to a picture of a knight, I replied, "Got it."

Then, I tapped on Instagram.

Sue had posted a photo of her left hand attached to an IV drip with the caption: [You are my salvation.]

Meanwhile, her profile picture had been changed to a princess who was being protected by a knight.

In the top left corner of the photo, a pair of hands that clearly belonged to a man was captured in the shot as well, almost as if it were unintentional. The owner of those hands was carefully helping her hold the IV tube, warming it and the fluid within with his palm.

Immediately, I knew that those hands belonged to Charles. There was a small scar on the second knuckle of his index finger on his right hand, left behind when he stood up for me when I was bullied in high school.

However, his ring finger that originally had a wedding band on it was conspicuously bare, with only a faint mark remaining.

My lips curled in a quiet, mocking smile, before I commented: [What a perfect match.]

Then, I tapped on my own account and swiftly changed my profile picture from our wedding photo to what it was before he confessed to me.

Barely a minute had passed before the post was deleted, and I immediately received a call from Charles.

"Anne, didn't I already explain to you that Sue's family isn't around to take care of her? She's sick, so I'm just doing what I can as her mentor to take care of her. Besides, she's troublesome enough, so could you not kick up a fuss too?"

Ah, troublesome, the word Charles most often used to describe Sue.

Back when the younger girl first joined the company, she didn't even know how to operate the printer. She was clumsy, airheaded, and always trailed behind Charles, asking him about everything and anything. Charles used to complain to me nonstop about her, talking about how she was slow and troublesome.

He'd always have a habit of sharing interesting things that happened to him at work, but at some point, all his stories were all about her.

"Anne, that girl can't even figure out how to use a can opener! It's a wonder she has survived adulthood."

"Sue printed the wrong documents today and got me in a lot of trouble at the company meeting! I swear, I'll tell HR to fire her someday!"

He had always said he'd ask for her to be transferred to another team, yet she was by his side all the way up till she got sick.

Then, I watched him change her contact from 'Troublemaker' to 'Dum Dum'.

Fast forward to today, and who was I to ignore the signs when they were right in front of me?

I listened calmly, not having even the urge to debate him, and I chuckled. "Yeah, I understand."

Clearly, he hadn't expected me to be so calm about it. Thinking that I was playing some sort of mind game with him, his tone softened. "I'll get you your favorite cupcakes from Breads & Bakes, alright? So please…"

Before he could even finish, Sue's weak, teary voice interrupted him. "Charles, the IV is backflowing…"

And just like that, all of his attention was pulled away in an instant. From the other end of the phone, I heard his panicked voice. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? Does it hurt?"

Sue sniffled softly and said it didn't.

Worried sick, he chided, "Silly, couldn't you at least call on the nurses?"

"Sorry for causing you trouble, Charles…" Sue's voice trailed sadly.

After that, I heard Charles let out a sigh and continued saying something to Sue, but he'd already put down the phone at that point so I couldn't hear anything clearly.

Not that I wanted to, anyway.

Even though my stomach was growling in hunger just a few moments ago, the nausea from witnessing how Charles treated Sue welled up like bile in my throat, quelling my appetite completely.

I ended the call.

Right then, the nurse pushed the door open and started to remove the needle from my hand.

"You can be discharged, but since you just went through an induced labor, you've got to rest and recover as much as possible, alright?"

The only response I could muster was a soft hum of acknowledgement.