Clenching my fist, I said, “Honey, you’ve always hated the taste of milk. Don’t force yourself to drink it, okay?”
Adriana gave a helpless smile, but her tone left no room for argument.
“Allen, stop being silly. The doctor said the more you dislike food, the more it means your body is lacking it.”
“If I can’t sleep well, the baby won’t rest well either. Don’t you love him the most? For you and our baby, I have to drink it.”
Without giving me a chance to stop her, she lifted the glass and downed the milk in one swift motion.
Adriana... were you really that afraid my child would stand in Khalil’s way?
Or was it simply that, in your heart, only a child with him was worth having?
I shut my eyes in despair.
Not even thirty minutes later, the effects of the drug began to show. Adriana curled up on the bed, her body trembling in agony, sweat pouring down her face.
She had barely finished her call to her private doctor when he stepped through the door—as if he had been waiting right outside the whole time.
Even though I’d been through this seven times before, losing another child still felt like having my heart torn apart.