Harry experienced a stomachache during his nap, and the doctor advised him to consume a light diet.
After settling him down, I went to the kitchen to cook oatmeal.
Patrick opened the door and stood at the kitchen door, feeling depressed.
"Honey, I fired Rachel. I'm sorry. Can you forgive me once, just once?"
My hands shook, causing me to spill most of the oatmeal from the pot.
After calming down, we fell into a long silence.
There was a family of three residing in the apartment. Once filled with laughter until today, it was now eerily quiet.
My mind went blank. I eagerly wished everything that had just happened was an absurd dream.
Unfortunately, it was not a dream.
Struggling to contain the overwhelming emotions in my heart, I put the oatmeal back into the pot.
Things had come to this, and I needed some time to weigh the pros and cons between forgiving him and divorcing him.
I stepped out of the kitchen in a daze without even casting a glance at Patrick.
The moment he grabbed my arm, I reflexively retched. Then, I pivoted around and rushed into the bathroom.
I lay on the toilet, vomiting nonstop until my stomach started to cramp and ache.