I felt my stomach churn with anger. He had begged me to quit my job when I found out I was pregnant, promising to take care of both me and the baby. At the time, his words had seemed so sweet, so genuine.
But in just a few months, his actions had erased any trace of sincerity.
“Is this child mine alone? Isn’t it yours too, Oscar?” I snapped, blocking the door to stop him from taking any more of my things.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he shoved me aside without so much as a second thought. The force sent me stumbling backward, and I collapsed to the ground.
Pain rippled through my body, still recovering from the difficult childbirth that had drained me both physically and emotionally. Leaning against the doorframe for support, I felt warmth trickling down my legs.
For a fleeting moment, I saw a trace of concern flash across Oscar’s face. He knelt beside me, his hands gripping my arm as he tried to pull me upright.
“Hurry up! Don’t waste my time,” he muttered impatiently.
Tears pricked my eyes as I glared at him.
“Oscar, why are you like this? Isn’t it enough that I gave up everything for you? You think it’s okay to take my things and call me pitiful?”