“Sabrina nearly lost her life giving birth. And Barbara, despite always acting tough, is terrified of pain, terrified of dying. What kind of man would I be if I let her go through that herself?”
Aside from the cashier, who looked like she wanted to disappear, the others actually applauded him.
A buzzing filled my ears. For a fleeting moment, I wished I had died on that operating table.
At least then, I wouldn’t have to face this humiliating, ridiculous reality.
My brother’s worried face filled my vision. I forced a weak smile, but the tears slipped out anyway.
“Scott,” I choked, “how could he once kneel down and beg me, saying he wanted a child as the symbol of our love?”
The truth was, I never even wanted children. Phyll promised me the same when we married.
But later, he dropped to his knees, saying he didn’t want to disappoint his parents, saying he dreamed of holding the child born from our love.
As such, I gave in. Even when I found out about my infertility, guilt ate at me until I agreed to IVF.