At my birthday party, we played the "Truth or Dare" game and the loser had to call a friend of the opposite sex and say, "I'm pregnant".

In front of me, Carrie Wood called the number marked "Husband". And the next second, my husband's phone rang.

A drunk friend started to egg him on. "Don't you two usually wear protection?"

My husband pressed decline and said half-jokingly, "If it really is mine, my wife'll have her aborted tomorrow!”

My gaze fell sharply on her lower abdomen. "There's no need to wait for tomorrow. I can make her miscarry right now.”

My husband paused for a second before sputtering, "Can't you tell that I'm just kidding?"

I smashed the bottle, held its neck tightly and sneered disdainfully. "Well, I'm not."

——

The crack of breaking glass froze everyone at the table. So much so that Mark Jefferson, my husband, failed to hear my last words.

And yet, it did not stop him from instinctively standing up and blocking my icy glare at Carrie.

"Honey, it's rare for us to get together to celebrate your birthday. What's this all about?"

“I'm giving you a chance to explain.”

Suddenly, Mark lost his temper and swept my birthday cake to the floor.  "Explain? It's just a game. There's nothing to explain!"

"You're so set to make a scene, aren’t you? Are you happy now?"

Normally, Mark could remain calm even in times of crisis. I only tested him casually and yet his reaction was strange.

Wasn't it the classic case of anger and humiliation caused by a guilty conscience?

It was true that the final ritual of a birthday party was that the birthday girl inevitably got smeared with birthday cake, but right now, the sticky mess on the top of my foot made me feel so disgusted.

Seeing me covered in cake, Carrie could not help but smile. She let out a cheer and called her friend to play with the cake, acting as if everything that just happened was truly nothing but a joke.

She was the first one who smeared the cream from the floor to my face. "Sis, it's just a name. I've been calling Mark "husband" for a long time. You're not really going to get jealous over one contact name, are you?”

She provocatively looped an arm around Mark’s neck and whispered affectionately, “Husband, say something!”

Mark smiled fondly and smeared cake on the tip of her nose. “Go change it now! Otherwise, my wife’s going to be angry over her silly jealousy!”

But Carrie was not having it. "Huh? Why? Your wife is always so generous. She's not a petty person like you make her out to be. Besides, having a "husband" in the contact helps me ward off so many creepy suitors—it's such a lifesaver!”

"As a woman, you must understand how much I hate being harassed by jerks, right?”

Mark shot me a glance and answered for me, “Fine, don't change it then. You've been calling me 'husband' for over a decade anyway.”

The two of them tacitly avoided talking about the pregnancy topic, linking my smashing the wine bottle to that nickname.

I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

David Coleman, the big-mouthed guy, had sobered a bit now. He slickly tried to placate me, "I was just talking nonsense after drinking too much. If you're still mad, take it out on me!”

I smiled and shook my head. “Why would I be mad at you?”

After all, I had to thank him for speaking his mind when drunk, making me notice the unusual dynamic between Mark and Carrie.

Seeing I wasn't upset, everyone instantly relaxed.

Carrie even recounted the past smugly, "Actually, the nickname was set over ten years ago. Back then, Mark kept forcing me to call him ‘husband’ and changed it himself.”

The next second, I raised my hand.

“Ah!”

A long gash appeared on her arm, sliced open by the sharp edge of a wine bottle.

The sudden turn of events left everyone stunned. Only Mark managed to act swiftly. He stopped the bleeding, blew on it and calmed her down.

This was not the man I knew, the one who fainted at the sight of blood.

When he finished, he glared at me coldly. "Jane Truman, you're really something! Over a game, you got angry and deliberately hurt someone! Why not just fly to the moon while you're at it? Apologize to Carrie!"

I shook my head in refusal.

Carrie sucked in the breath and tugged at Mark. "What are you doing? Jane is having her birthday today and is a bit upset that she wants to tease me, but I’m fine, okay? Besides, I'm tough, I'll be fine in a couple of days."

This made Mark's gaze toward me grow even colder.

“Apologize! Don't make me force you!”

My phone rang. I couldn't be bothered to glance at him and answered, "It's room 308. Sent it here."

Seeing that I ignored him, Mark's rage exploded. He grabbed my arm and dragged me forcefully before Carrie. “Apologize and get the hell home! Stop acting crazy here!”

A knock sounded at the door. "Excuse me. Delivery for Miss Truman."

I wrenched my arm free from Mark's grip, took the package and handed it to him.

“I bought the most expensive ones—ten in total. If all ten are negative, this matter is closed!”

Immediately, Mark understood what I brought and his face clouded with anger. He hurled the entire pregnancy tests at me and roared, "Jane, are you fucking crazy? Or is this a deliberate act to slander Carrie?"

“Why do you take a game so seriously? Am I really so untrustworthy?”

Trust?

He lets female friends label him ‘husband’ and calls him ‘husband’ to my face—that alone makes him unworthy of my trust.

The atmosphere in the private room tensed with tension.

Since he demanded my apology, I demanded Carrie take a test.

David slapped his face hard and pleaded with me, "This whole mess is my fault for being a big mouth. I'm sorry. Please, don't make it hard on Carrie and Mark, okay?"

But I did not budge. I just gripped Carrie's arm and marched toward the restroom.

Mark blocked me. “Do you have to humiliate her like this? Even if she is pregnant, it’s none of your business. What right do you have to force her to take a test?”

None of my business, huh?

The more he tried to stop me, the more convinced I was that there was something he and Carrie hid.

I grabbed the fruit knife from the table and said calmly," If she doesn't want to do the test, it's okay. I'll just get rid of the baby myself."

Mark's eyes turned bloodshot from the piercing calmness of my gaze. But then he relented.

Immediately, Carrie's eyes reddened and she vowed through her tears, "I'm not pregnant. Aren't you and Mark trying to have a baby? Keep these for yourself. Why are you wasting them on me?"

I completely ignored her vows.

Then she gave Mark a resentful pleading look, but seeing my dagger-like glare, he finally relented.

“Test her! Once the results are in, we'll decide for you!”

His solemn promise, paired with his eyes brimming with resignation and disappointment, made it seem like I was the one losing my mind.

When the fifth pregnancy test also came back negative, I began to doubt myself.

Could it be I was wrong? Is she not really pregnant?

Was she just being spiteful to torment me?

Was the word David blurted out when he was drunk false?

The tenth test result arrived and I was too nervous to look.

"Jane, you're closing your eyes and not daring to look. Are you trying to refuse the result?"

Carrie's teasing voice forced me to glance at the pregnancy test. They were all negative.

I smiled bitterly. When I saw my disheveled reflection in the mirror, I was unsure whether I felt relieved or disappointed.

Since the test results proved that it was a joke, everyone looked at me.

Before Mark could say anything, Cassie said, "Alright, everyone… stop looking at Jane like that. She knows she messed up and I don't need her apology. This whole thing is my fault for taking the joke too far.”

She waved to the waiter to clean up the mess in the private room and ordered another case of liquor to keep the games going.

Suddenly, Mark grabbed a bottle and slammed it hard against my arm.

"Just because Carrie doesn't blame you doesn't mean you can act however you please. Consider this as a lesson."

“If you can’t handle it, then go home. Stop embarrassing yourself here!"

I bit my lip hard, watching blood drip from my fingertips as if it were my heart bleeding. It wasn’t that I couldn’t handle it; I just didn’t want to be the fool in love.

Looking briefly at the wine glass before Carrie, I suddenly understood why the pregnancy test hadn't shown two lines.

Mark, if you want to play this way … I won't hold back.

I grabbed my bag and left decisively for the hospital.

The wound needed eight stitches, but I did not even flinch. Because compared to this superficial pain, the ripped-open wound in my heart sent a chill through my entire body.

After getting the wound treated, my screen lit up. It was not from missed calls or messages from Mark. Instead, their little group chat was buzzing with activity as new messages kept popping up constantly.

They were all photos and videos from David and the others, documenting their continued drinking and frolicking.

In the pictures, Cassie held up her bandaged arm, beaming with joy, while Mark smiled as he wiped cream from her cheek.

With my absence, the tenderness in his eyes was clear as the day.

As the group chat continued buzzing with activities, a sixty-second voice message popped up.

"Cassie, you always love to drink, but tonight, you didn't touch a drop … you're not actually pregnant, are you?"

Suddenly, Mark chimed in, "What nonsense! She's been single her whole life—how could she possibly be pregnant?"

The group erupted in laughter as the mood reached a fever pitch.

"Oh my, oh my, oh my! Your tiger wife isn't even here and you're still keeping her secrets? We all know about you and Carrie …"

"But to be fair, it's all David's fault for running his mouth and causing Cassie to get hurt for nothing! Thank goodness the baby in her belly is as resilient as she is!"

Cassie hurriedly defended herself, “I really am not pregnant! Stop talking about it, or Jane will kill me."

"She would not dare!"

Mark's roar reverberated through the phone, making my eardrums ache.

After a moment of silence, someone else stepped in to smooth things over. “Your tiger wife may look fierce, but she's actually dumb as a rock. How dare she try to go toe-to-toe with Mark! Just that one punch from him would probably leave her needing several stitches.”

Just as I finished recording the voice note, the message, which was likely sent by accident, got recalled. No one knew I was in that group. But their cautiousness only makes them look guilty as hell.

The next second, Cassie tagged me in the main group. [Jane, is your wound serious? Did you get it checked at the hospital? I gave Mark a harsh beating for you. He knows his mistakes. He'll go back home tonight to kneel on a wheel of blue cheese to beg for forgiveness. Don't be mad with him, okay? Sticking out tongue emoji]

She attached a photo of the blue cheese that she had just bought. Then she tagged Mark.

[Hurry up and apologize to Jane! Or me and you are done!]