He Chose Her Over Our Unborn Child

On Thanksgiving night, my husband's childhood friend turned off the hallway lights and cornered me in the elevator, dressed up as a ghost. When I woke up in the hospital, the baby I had struggled to keep with 100 injections was gone.

I called Gabriel, asking him to come sign the surgery papers, only to be met with a harsh rebuke:

"I'm busy, don't bother me with insignificant issues."

After the surgery, I discovered that Milana, his childhood friend, had posted a picture of fireworks on a cruise ship:

"Fireworks are beautiful, but they're better with someone special."

Seeing Gabriel’s bright smile beside her, I realized this marriage was over.

The baby was already three months along, and even under anesthesia, I felt her slipping away from me. The doctors sighed when they saw my bruised abdomen.

"Those injections really affected your skin. This baby was truly a hard-fought blessing. What a loss."

As I was wheeled out of the operating room, I couldn't stop the tears looking at that tiny bundle. She could have grown into a lively, beautiful girl. At 10:30 PM, husbands came and went, asking the other new mothers what they wanted to eat. I was left alone. I lay with my eyes closed for what felt like forever until I found the strength to call Gabriel. On the fourth try, he finally picked up.

His voice was full of irritation:

"Natasha, Milana invited you to the cruise, and you refused. Why are you calling me non-stop now?"

The noise and excitement on his end of the line were painfully loud in the quiet hospital room. I bit my lip and, with a shaky voice, asked:

"Could you come to the hospital? The baby—"

The sound of fireworks drowned out my words. Gabriel impatiently interrupted:

"Don't bother me with your minor problems. It’s my first day off in ages."

Since becoming pregnant, my days were filled with hospital visits. Gabriel had grown tired of it. I heard Milana's voice in the background, giggling:

"Gabriel, doesn't that duck remind you of the one we had when we were little?"

Gabriel moved away from the phone and agreed.

"Don't call me anymore. I'll come to the hospital when I have time."

The call ended with a harsh beep. After the anesthesia wore off, my abdomen felt empty and every breath hurt. The room plunged into darkness as the other patients wished to sleep, leaving me frozen in fear. The oppressive darkness brought back the terror from the elevator.

I was scared of the dark, even at home. The flicker of a white coat outside the window brought back the image of Milana dressed as a ghost. A cold sweat broke out across my palms.

A few hours earlier, Milana had come to invite me to a Halloween party on a cruise. As Gabriel’s secretary, she managed his schedule and affairs. When I was ready and headed out, she was gone. I rode the elevator alone, and as soon as I entered, all the lights went out.

In the dim, eerie light, a ghostly figure with long hair hiding its face crawled toward me. I screamed and cowered in the corner. That desperate, suffocating feeling flooded back, a memory I had buried breaking free. When the ghost revealed its face, I gathered all my strength and ran from the elevator toward the distant window's light.

I have claustrophobia; the dark, cramped space terrifies me. Milana shouted after me:

"Sister-in-law, you're such a scaredy-cat. If you won't join the cruise, I'll go ahead."

As I reached the light, a warm sensation ran down my thigh. Crimson blood spilled onto the floor. A night nurse found me shaking on the bed and quickly turned on the light. After I was moved to a private room, Milana sent a message:

"Sister-in-law, Gabriel and I watched an intense horror film. He was thrilled the whole time."

"Too bad you're scared of ghosts and never join him for horror movies."

Several pictures followed, showing them holding each other. Anyone would think they were a couple deeply in love.