When we first got married, I had told him that if we ever had a child, I wanted to give them a complete, loving family — something I never had growing up.
But now?
I no longer had any expectations of him.
He opened his mouth to say something else, but his phone buzzed.
Glancing at the screen, he hesitated briefly before stepping out to answer it.
Even inside the room, I could hear the sugary voice on the other end.
"The baby isn’t even yours. Why bother visiting her? I want to go to see the idol's concert. I want you to accompany me ..."
He went out to answer the phone and never came back.
As I stared at the door he left through, a mom-to-be walked past my door, supported by her husband.
"Do you think the baby will look like you or me?" she asked playfully.
"Like you, of course — beautiful like you," he teased, making her laugh.
The woman was coaxed by her husband to laugh, and her husband laughed with her. His eyes stared at the woman beside him for an instant, and his movements were careful for fear of falling on her.
Look at their body overflowing with happiness.
I was envious.
If there is someone who can love me, how good would it be?