Chapter 8 What could possibly be more important than your wife and child's lives? You didn't show up once-not for her surgery, not afterward, not even when she was discharged!" "she didn't even leave your number here. Do you know why? Because deep down, she knew you didn't care!" The doctor's last furious words cut through Norwell like a blade, sharp and merciless. He trembled as the doctor shoved my hospital records in front of him. The notes were clear, line after line, The day of the wedding was an emergency admission. Severe blood loss. Nineteen stitches across the back. Confirmed pregnant. The day we crossed paths with him and Lucy was emotional trauma and a fall, Miscarriage, His hands shook as he flipped each page. His chest felt strangled by an invisible cord. His eyes locked on the line confirming my pregnancy, his Adam's apple bobbing hard, every breath scraping with pain. Beside him, the doctor slid out the images of my back crisscrossed with stitches. Each one slashed into his chest like a blade. "When we found out she was pregnant in the ER, we couldn't risk anesthesia while treating her wounds. She endured it awake, every stitch." Every moment I had needed him, he had been by Lucy's side instead. Only now did Norwell understand. I hadn't been jealous. I hadn't been acting. After all these years, he really had the child he'd always dreamed of. And my departure, from the moment I stepped off that stage at the wedding, had been inevitable. The doctor straightened his collar, sat back down, and said coldly, "Mr. Harris, this is a hospital, not your company. You don't get to throw tantrums here. We have many mothers who need rest, many patients waiting for treatment, Control yourself." "You can sue whoever you want, rage however you like. You have money and power, no one will stop you. But remember one thing-" "The one who truly extinguished every last hope in Cynthia... was you." Chapter 8 80.00% His body froze, his face blanching white as paper. When he stumbled out of the hospital, he looked like a man stripped of his sanity, wandering madly in search of me. Now he knew everything I had endured. The thought tortured him: What was she feeling that night, after learning she was pregnant, yet still walking alone into a pharmacy to buy those pills? What broke him most was my social media, page after page of venomous insults, drowning out everything else. That night, for the first time in his life, Norwell drank until he blacked out. The alcohol didn't numb his guilt. It only magnified every memory, every image, until it tore him apart. Clutching his stomach, he collapsed on the carpet, groping weakly for his phone. His lips moved, mumbling, "Cynthia is still waiting for me... Gastrointestinal bleeding landed him in the ER. The next day, he was transferred to a regular ward. "If you keep this up, are you trying to kill us all?" His father stood at the window, his back heavy with disappointment. His mother wept as she scolded, "What's so special about that Cynthia? You'd risk your life for her? That witch cast some spell on you!" Norwell kept his eyes closed, silent. But his mother grew more agitated, tears streaming as she cursed, "I told you long ago-she's a barren hen! Marry her, and the Harris family line ends here!" "Lucy loves you, her son is sweet and sensible. What does Cynthia have that she doesn't?!" Norwell's eyes snapped open, fury blazing. "Enough!" His mother froze, stunned. "I only said this for your own good-" she began, indignation still thick in her voice. "For me?" He let out a hollow laugh, turning to her with eyes gone cold and still. "If Lucy was truly so perfect, then tell me, why did you refuse to let me be with her in the first place?" Chapter 8 80.00% Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!