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When I woke up, I was alone at the hospital with my left leg in a cast.
I struggled to remember what had happened, but then a very strong pain reminded me of all.
Noticing that I was awake, a nurse came over to remove my IV and said with concern, “You’re lucky that it’s just your leg, or you would have lost your baby.”
I looked calmly at the ceiling and replied, almost whispering, “I don’t want the baby. Can you schedule an abortion for me?”
The nurse looked at me with surprise. “I don’t know, I will have to talk to the doctor first, Miss.”
“Please do, I can’t continue with this anymore, I beg you,” I said to her once more, pleading for her sympathy.
After I was wheeled out by the nurse, I learned that it was the village chief who had brought me here.
All I got from Antonio was a text, which read, “Roxanne fainted from seeing your injured leg. So I took her back to New York for treatment.”
He and Levi requested a rescue helicopter overnight and escorted her to New York.
I was hurt but no longer surprised that he didn’t care about my injuries at all.
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The great disappointment made me numb all over, yet somehow I still felt the heartbreak soon after.
Not long after, the nurse came to tell me that my abortion was set for three hours later.
During this period of time, I finalized the legal divorce agreement with my lawyer friend,
As I exited our chat, I saw Roxanne posted screenshots of money transfers on Facebook.
So, they all remembered her birthday, which was the day after mine.
I remember when I asked my dad Peter, for 2.000 dollars to buy some equipment to be a better journalist.
He said that was too much and yet he transferred 8,500 dollars to her while leaving a message, “Happy birthday, sweetie!”
Last month, my brother used my car and had an accident while driving it. He was ok, but he wrecked my car and said he could not afford to fix it.
Levi transferred 16,000 dollars to her, saying, “My dearest sister, may you be happy forever!”
And of course, Antonio would never even take me out for dinner, saying it was too expensive.
He sent her a screenshot of a bank transfer of 85,000 dollars, and the words attached were, “No matter what the future holds, I’ll love you forever.”
In silence, I looked at all the screenshots one by one and then
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unfriended Roxanne on Facebook.
Just then, Antonio called. How did he find out?
As soon as I picked up, he mocked me, “What’s gotten into you this time, Grace? You just hate to see us being so nice to Roxanne, right? Back in high school, you accused her and Elise of killing your mom. But then what?”
“Antonio,” I started carefully, but he didn’t let me finish.
“Peter told me everything. Your mom had mental issues! She committed suicide! Then you claimed Elise tricked you and Levi into some school to fight Internet addiction.”
“You are wrong,” I answered, raising my voice a bit more.
He didn’t try to mask the disdain in his tone as he continued ranting, “I already had someone look into it. That school doesn’t exist at all. Levi said you lured him to an abandoned school, and then he hit his head and lost his memory. It was Roxanne who took care of him for a month.”
It was like he finally stopped pretending, and he kept cursing
- me.
“Honestly, I never wanted to marry you! Back then, if it weren’t for Roxanne worrying you might hurt yourself, I wouldn’t have gone into the hotel and drunk the wine you had spiked with drugs…”
I listened in silence until a female voice cut him off. “Patient No. 037, Grace Parrish, please come to the door of the abortion
room.”
Antonio went quiet for a while. Then he asked, his breath quickening, “You’re getting an abortion?”
Somehow I sensed a hint of disbelief in his tone.
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As I was about to speak, Roxanne’s chuckle sounded on the other end of the line.
“Come on, Antonio. Grace cares so much about you and your baby. Why would she get an abortion?”
Antonio’s voice instantly turned cold. “You’re right. Grace, you’ve really let me down.”
“You can believe whatever you want, Antonio. I no longer care,” I told him and he was more upset.
“Both you and Roxanne are born to the same father, but you’re nothing like her; How can you be so manipulative? After going all out to marry me, now you want to threaten me with the baby?”
“Antonio,” I started to speak again but he did not want to hear anything.
“Well guess what, I’m not falling for that crap. Let’s get a
divorce.” He sounded triumphant, like he was waiting for me to cry and beg for mercy.
But he was wrong. After pausing for a few seconds, I suddenly felt a lot relieved. “Sure. Let’s get a divorce.”
I then ended the call and walked into the abortion room.
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