My mother-in-law finally understood what I meant. She cursed me while hurriedly grabbing a few important items from her room. After they left, I didn’t rest either.
I cleaned the entire house, packing all their belongings into boxes.
Exhausted, I collapsed onto the sofa. Only then did I start feeling the pain in my lower abdomen.
Before leaving the hospital, the doctor had repeatedly told me to rest in bed.
Curled up on the sofa like a pitiful wreck, I didn’t dare call my mom. I was afraid she would scold me.
Back then, they had warned me that I was chasing after Patrick, that I loved him more than he loved me, and that I would suffer for it. But I believed that if I loved him enough, he would eventually love me back.
However, I was wrong.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. The pain became unbearable, and I ended up back in the hospital. As I lay on the cold hospital bed, tears streamed down my face.
At dawn, Patrick called.
"Andrea, apologize to Mom right now, and we’ll come back." His condescending tone made me nauseous. Why hadn’t I noticed it before?
They say the loved always act with impunity—and it couldn’t be any truer. He took my deep love for granted and acted without restraint.