"First, you fake taking sleeping pills, and now this? You went as far as getting blood from somewhere to stage this scene?" His voice dripped with disbelief. "It looks pretty convincing, I’ll give you that." He scoffed, his tone cutting. "Is all of this just to get my attention? What is it you want from me?"
His next words hit like a blow. "You’ve disappointed me beyond words."
My heart sank. I stood frozen as his expression shifted into a deep frustration, thinking I had staged the entire scene to manipulate him. He didn’t know the truth—that the blood was from the operation.
I could barely process it. I remembered a time when the tiniest cut on my finger would have him frantic with worry, holding my hand like it was the most precious thing in the world. His eyes would fill with panic, and he’d act as though my smallest wound was a catastrophe. But now, there was nothing—just cold suspicion.
My chest tightened with a grief I could barely contain, and I struggled to hold back the tremor that threatened to take over my body.
I forced a smile, the effort feeling foreign on my face, and pushed him gently.
"I'm sorry for being so willful. You should go back to your sister-in-law."