My husband forced me to skydive while I was eight months pregnant. I was terrified and refused, but he slapped me.

"You've been a flight attendant for years. Why are you pretending to be scared of heights now? The brand is paying $25.000 for this skydiving video! They specifically want a pregnant woman! You dare say no?"

"Besides, I had a lot of trouble getting that $70 group training voucher! If you don't jump today, just wait until we get home and see what happens!"

——

I was heavily pregnant and expecting a quiet mountain vacation with Ian, my husband. Sadly, he had a different idea and we ended up at a skydiving center.

I was surprised. Ian had been so focused on his short videos lately and glued to the analytics all day that I never thought he'd want to be on camera himself. Why would he suddenly want to bring me here, of all places?

Just as I felt touched by his sudden change of heart, he handed me a set of skydiving gear.

'Stunt Performance Team, Cynthia Lane,' I froze as if struck by lightning, staring in disbelief at the skydiving suit with my name on it.

"Cynthia, the brand specifically requested you. I worked hard to get you into the stunt performance," Ian said, walking over to buckle me into the harness and adjust the safety gear with practiced ease.

I frowned, pointing at my eight-month pregnant belly. "You know I'm afraid of heights and I'm pregnant! How can I skydive?"

Unexpectedly, Ian impatiently choked me. "Don't you fly to work every day? Why are you pretending with me now?" The sarcastic tone in his voice made me uncomfortable.

Ever since I got pregnant, he had been complaining about my low maternity leave pay and constantly pushing me to do live-streaming to make extra money for the baby.

Ian didn't care about my protest and kept pushing me toward the training area while muttering, "Oh, come on, it's just a jump. Close your eyes and take a leap—done! The video will be finished in no time."

I wanted to refuse, but Ian scowled and snapped as if anticipating my resistance, "Enough, Cynthia! Do you know how hard it was for me to get that $70 voucher? If you don't jump, you'll be wasting money!"

With such a big hat on my head, the courage to resist that had just arisen was instantly extinguished. I cradled my belly with my head down and lined up obediently.

The training area was packed and my presence caused quite a stir.

"These influencers are insane. They're even making pregnant women skydive for views? Does she dare to skydive with such a big belly?"

"Stay away from her. If something goes wrong, they'll pin the blame on us. These viral video types love playing the victim."

The mocking whispers and judgmental stares made me feel uneasy. I looked at Ian holding the camera for help, but he was busy scrolling on his phone. He tapped away as if doing calculations, completely ignoring my silent cries.

Seeing the smug grin on his face sent a chill down my spine. How could he not care that his wife was being ridiculed like this?

Before I could even start to complain, the coach's whistle blew. Ian immediately raised the camera, urging me to hurry and join the queue. I hesitated but was shoved by other participants.

"Hurry up! You're blocking the shot. Are you trying to steal the spotlight?" I could only clutch my belly and slowly shuffle forward. Thankfully, Ian followed me with his camera, seemingly focused on taking pictures.

Seeing how dedicated he was, my resentment quickly faded and I even felt a bit guilty.

I thought I had misjudged Ian. Maybe he was trying to create an eye-catching video and didn't seriously expect me to go skydiving. Still, I realized how naive that thought was ten minutes later.

The moment I climbed up the training tower, a sharp pain stabbed through my stomach as if someone below was yanking at me with all their might. I was so scared that I quickly squatted down and held on to the railing.

Before I could say anything, Ian started yelling, "Why are you squatting there? Look, the photographer is ready! Get up and start shooting!"

I couldn't even be mad at him. I gasped while clutching my stomach. "Take me to the hospital, now! My stomach hurts so much—I think I'm going into labor!"

"Ugh, not this again! You didn't even bring the parachute. You're clearly just making excuses!" Unconvinced, Ian was so exasperated he grabbed me and tried to pull me towards the skydive zone.

"Even if you're about to give birth, can't you hold it for a bit until the shoot's done? The brand has been waiting for half an hour already!" Ian's face twisted in annoyance as he tugged harder on my arm, determined to force me to carry the parachute.

The pain was so unbearable, making me drenched in cold sweat. I couldn't take it anymore.

I shoved his hand away as I pulled out my phone to call my best friend, Yelena. She worked as an obstetrician at the city hospital. She could definitely help me save my baby!

But before I could dial, pain shot through my hand—Ian snatched my phone away, turned off the screen and screamed in my face. "Cynthia, stop being so dramatic! Pregnant women on TikTok can dance and bungee jumping! All I asked for was a video and now you're pretending to be in pain?"

"Let me tell you something, the brand is paying $25.000 for this. If you miss this chance, you'll regret it when we get home!"

My blood ran cold instantly. I stared at him in disbelief, my heart sinking into icy depths.

So, all that smiling and scrolling on his phone—he was negotiating with the brand this whole time? How stupid of me to think he was trying to make a stunt video.

In a fit of anger, I glared at him fiercely and turned around to go downstairs, but Ian wasn't about to let me go. He grabbed the strap of my gear, trying to pull me back.

He had always been short-tempered. Later, he slapped me when he saw I was determined to leave. The force was so strong that I stumbled against the railing.

I was still reeling from the physical abuse when I felt something warm trickling down my leg. I looked down in horror to find I was bleeding profusely.

A crowd had gathered, but fear of being falsely accused kept everyone at a safe distance. My stomach was cramping painfully and I was terrified that I might lose the baby. I frantically searched for Ian, but he had vanished into the crowd.

Thank goodness the coach called for an ambulance right away. Just before the car door shut, I saw Ian trembling like a coward behind the training tower. At that moment, I was completely heartbroken.

The surgery lasted two hours, but the baby was saved. Yelena scolded me in the ward while giving me an IV drip, "You were about to give birth and you still dared to climb so high? You're lucky you didn't fall. Both you and the baby could have died." I nodded repeatedly, shivering with lingering fear.

I originally had wanted to avoid Ian for a day to teach him a lesson, but the nurse came to inform me that I needed to pay for the surgery and hospital stay. So, I had no choice but to contact him. Ian had taken all my bank cards, claiming he didn't trust me with money while I was on maternity leave and not earning.

I opened my phone and saw that Ian hadn't posted a single update since the incident. I suppressed my anger and called six times, but he didn't answer. When I tried again, his phone was turned off.

The nurse looked at me with such pity. She spoke softly, telling me not to worry and that I could wait for my family to arrive before paying the bill. After she left, I buried my face in the blanket and sobbed uncontrollably.

I felt sorry for myself and even more sorry for the child growing inside me.

Thankfully, the emergency surgery only cost a little over $40.000. I scraped together every penny I could, even borrowing from a few colleagues in the airline industry and finally managed to cover the expense.

***

One of my friends asked if everything was alright. I typed and deleted several messages, finally saying, "No worries. I'll pay you back as soon as I can."

I wanted someone to talk to about everything I was going through. Still, I realized everyone was busy flying as I scrolled through my contact list. No one would understand my situation.

Yes, I'm twenty-six this year. I should be chasing my dreams high in the sky, but I'm grounded because I'm pregnant and waiting for a baby.

At first, I didn't regret choosing to have this baby. I even felt proud, thinking I was ahead of my colleagues in building a complete family.

It wasn't until after marriage that Ian gradually exposed her true colors. He made me livestream for his social media, controlled my social life and forced me to make videos with him. He constantly pushed his values on me.

That's when I realized—he never truly loved me. It was ironic.

We both worked for the same airline. When we met, I was a new flight attendant and he was the senior purser on one of my flights. Our colleagues joked about how we looked perfect together, so I casually saved his number.

Back then, Ian was great at sweet-talking me. He'd pick me up after work, surprise me with custom cakes, plan romantic dinners after flights and even take me on trips during our days off. I had been independent since I was young, which made me always lack a sense of security and his gentle demeanour quickly swayed me.

On his birthday, we went to a sky-high restaurant. He got down on one knee and said he wanted me to be the most memorable birthday gift he'd ever receive.

I was about to say no, but then he removed his work hat and pointed to a scar on his head. He'd gotten it during a turbulent flight when he shielded me with his body, hitting the cabin ceiling himself. I was so moved at that moment that I said yes.

After we got married, Ian quickly showed his true colors. He insisted that we make short videos together.

I was soft-spoken and wasn't good at saying no. He must've noticed that about me, so he started taking advantage of me.

He even asked me to wear my uniform for adult content, claiming it was what the fans liked. When I refused, he'd waffle and say, "We don't need the money—it's just about documenting our lives."

I once worriedly asked if this might affect our jobs, but Ian replied without a second thought, "It's no big deal. Worst case, we'll both quit and focus on being full-time content creators."

Who would've thought those words would come true?

The roar of a sports car engine snapped me out of my thoughts. I strolled down the hospital corridor, watching doctors in white coats bustling about and heard the cries of newborns echoing from the delivery room …

I felt a pang of envy. I couldn't help but wonder: If I hadn't met Ian, would I still be free as a bird right now? But then a kick from my belly reminded me how unrealistic that thought was.

"What are you thinking, Cynthia? Would you abandon this innocent little life, leaving him to grow up unloved like you did?" The thought of my lonely upbringing made that impossible.

When I returned to the rented apartment, it was pitch black inside. Ian still wasn't home and hadn't even sent me a message. I'd be frantically trying to find him if this were the past, but tonight, I felt unusually calm.

Without needing to record or edit videos for him, I pulled out my phone and quietly searched for divorce procedures.

This brush with death finally made me see Ian for who he was. He's not the right person for me. I need to leave him as soon as possible—before it's too late.

Ian didn't return until noon the next day. He came in carrying herbal soup in one hand and supplements in the other.

After putting it down, he rushed to my bedside like an arrow. He clung to my legs while bawling. "Heavens, thank goodness you and the baby are alright! If something had happened to you two, how would I live on?"

It seemed he had seen the surveillance footage from outside the hospital and rushed over to put on this performance, but I didn't care to engage with him. I continued packing my suitcase.

Ian panicked and quickly pushed the suitcase aside, forcing me to look at him. "Cynthia, what happened yesterday was my fault. I wasn't thinking straight—I panicked. I was scared the hospital might call to say … no, I was scared something might happen to you and the baby ..."

He lowered his head, his voice growing quieter and quieter. Seeing him so timid and apologetic, I felt nothing but irony.

Ian was terrified of getting caught up in a murder that would ruin his influencer career, so he'd been hiding since yesterday. When he saw that I was not only unharmed but also wanted a divorce, he came running over in a panic to try and smooth things over.

I didn't want to hear his excuses, so I said coldly, "Let's go to the City Hall this afternoon to get a divorce."