The Night We Both Went Into Labor
I once toyed with a college boy. When he fell in love with me, I ended things.
Years later, after he made something of himself, he married me in front of everyone who thought I was lucky to have him. My family had fallen from grace, and to the outside world, I had won the jackpot.
What they never saw was what happened behind closed doors.
Every night, he brought a different woman home.
I never cried. I never made a scene.
That only seemed to enrage him more.
So he went further. He got his first love, Natalie, pregnant on purpose.
When I still stayed calm, he pinned me against the wall and demanded, "Stella, do you even love me?"
Later, Natalie and I went into labor on the same night.
I dropped to my knees and finally admitted I loved him, begging him to take me to the hospital.
He held me tight, almost giddy with satisfaction.
"I knew it," he said. "You liar."
Then he shoved me aside, picked Natalie up, and walked away without looking back.
"I'll take you to the hospital later. The pain of childbirth can be your punishment."