As I feared, when Millie came to give me an infusion, she pretended as if she couldn’t find a vein. She jabbed the needle in and out of the back of my hand, with an almost deliberate cruelty, piercing deeper until a sharp pain shot up my arm as she struck a nerve. My hand began to swell, the veins bulging and the pain radiating through my fingers, leaving them numb and aching.
With the operation fast approaching, I couldn’t bear it any longer and complained to Peter. But instead of understanding, his face twisted with anger. He snatched the delivery bag and, without warning, smashed it down onto my swollen hand, making me gasp in pain.
“You’re the first to lodge a complaint, aren’t you?” he spat, his voice filled with venom.
“All because of some petty jealousy, you threw boiling water at Millie when she was just trying to help you! She hasn’t even uttered a word against you.”
He glared down at me, a cold fury in his eyes. “She made one small mistake with the needle and you’re acting so high and mighty? Just because you’re pregnant doesn’t mean you can act out however you please. You don’t get special treatment just because you’re my wife! Just give birth to the child on your own!”