“I was joking, saying that after praying to heaven and earth, it was true—I wouldn’t marry again. But I wanted a child, and I was scared of the pain. Guess what this idiot did?”
Ethan smiled, drinking, saying nothing to stop her.
Encouraged by the crowd, Tara added proudly,
“He actually took it seriously! Then he actually took me to get embryo culture!”
She blinked, signaling for Ethan to continue.
“Ethan, what about the child?”
Ethan tilted his head back, finishing his drink, eyes dark.
“What’s in Nicole’s belly right now is Tara and I’s test-tube baby.”
Boom—
My mind exploded, and everything went blank.
I could hear Henry cursing, “Bastard!” and see Ethan’s indifferent gaze.
I clutched my stomach. It seemed to sense my grief and moved violently.
But all I felt was irony.
From the very start of our pregnancy preparations, Ethan had lied, claiming his sperm motility was low and that IVF had a better chance.
For countless days and nights, I took medication until I felt sick, my belly covered in purple pinpricks.
On the day the pregnancy succeeded, he had gently leaned against my belly and said,
“Dear baby, Daddy will make you and Mommy the happiest people in the world.”