Section 5
The walls of the recovery room felt like they were closing in on me. The doctor’s words echoed in my mind, “Your son needs immediate surgery.” I couldn’t breathe. “How could this happen?” I whispered, my voice cracking.
Ethan, who had been staring blankly at the floor, suddenly shifted his gaze to me. “This is your fault, Rebecca!” His voice cut through the air like a knife. “If you hadn’t insisted on having this baby at all—”
“What do you mean, my fault?” I shot back, rage boiling inside. “You weren’t even there! You left me on the kitchen floor, alone!”
“I had a family obligation,” he retorted, his frustration evident as he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not like I wanted this to happen!”
“You think I wanted to be in this situation? You think I wanted to be here without you?” I was screaming now, the fear mixing with fury. “I should have had your support! But where were you?”
His face fell, anger replaced by a grimace filled with something unrecognizable. “Maybe we shouldn’t have had a kid in the first place,” he muttered, barely audible. “Maybe we weren’t ready.”
Stunned, I felt every word like a bullet. “Is that how you really feel? You’re blaming me for everything? For something we brought into this world together?”
“I don’t know, Rebecca! I don’t know if I’m cut out for this!” His voice cracked, exposing an unexpected vulnerability. “I’ve had doubts about us for a while now.”
His admission hit me harder than the news about our son. Doubts? What did that even mean? “So you’re telling me you want to leave?” My breath caught in my throat as I processed his words.
