“Nine weeks and three days, give or take three to five days.”
I quickly counted back in my mind. Nine weeks ago, the company had been chasing a major client that could decide our future, and I had been with my wife almost every day.
Relief washed over me. I stood and smiled at the doctor. “Thank you. I didn’t mean anything by it; the elders at home told me to ask. I really had no choice.”
Just as I finished speaking, that same childish voice came again in my ear, “Dad, I’m doing this for you. Why won’t you believe me? Fine! Since you don’t trust me, I’ll handle it myself!”
The next moment, my wife’s cry came from outside the door.
I rushed out. She was already sitting on the floor, her body weak, one hand clutching her stomach, her face pale and wet with sweat.
When I tried to help her up, she pushed my hands away, tears filling her eyes.
“Lucius Leonard, I heard everything you said to the doctor. I never thought that after standing by you through everything until now, you’d still doubt me over this.”
“A husband who’s shared my bed for more than ten years doesn’t believe me. I might as well be dead!”