Birth & Betrayal Chapter 1

“This woman is bleeding out after childbirth. Isn’t her husband supposed to be watching her? Where is he?”

I was about to make an excuse for my husband, Robert, to say he was a doctor and had an emergency at the hospital he couldn’t get away from.

Just then, I received a wedding photo from Robert’s best friend, Anna.

“Thanks for lending me Robert, sis-in-law,” the text read. “I had a great 30th birthday. Don’t worry, we won’t be consummating the marriage, lol.”

In the photo, Robert was kissing Anna’s cheek. Their entire circle of friends surrounded them, their faces beaming with happiness.

Meanwhile, I was hemorrhaging so severely that I needed a family member’s signature for emergency surgery, but Robert was unreachable.

When I finally managed to get through to him, his only words were, “The baby’s already born. Can’t you just give me a break?”

“It’s Anna’s 30th birthday. It’s important. Everyone is here; I can’t leave.”

“I promised her I’d be with her for her 30th.”

“Why do you have to be such a buzzkill?”

Right before I lost consciousness, Anna sent another photo.

It was a picture of a large bed. Robert and she were lying on it, surrounded by their friends, who were raucously celebrating their “wedding night.”

…“Oxygen levels are dropping. The patient is showing signs of shock. Get blood from another hospital’s bank, now! Notify all specialists to report to the OR immediately!”

The hospital’s emergency code, “999,” blared through the halls.

Doctors and nurses rushed into my room. I could feel my life slipping away, my body so light it felt like it could float off the bed at any moment.

Through the haze, I could hear a nurse’s gentle voice.

“You have to fight. Your baby was just born. He’s in the incubator. You haven’t even held him yet.”

“Don’t give up on yourself. Please, don’t give up. We’re doing everything we can to save you.”

Her voice was urgent, laced with a choked sob.

I had no strength to respond, but my mind kept repeating, That’s right, I have my baby. I can’t die, I can’t…

The hospital was pulling out all the stops, gathering the city’s top OB-GYN specialists for an emergency consultation, rapidly sourcing blood from every available bank.

“We still can’t reach the patient’s family. What do we do?”

“What is her husband doing at a time like this? His phone is off?”

“The patient’s… parents passed away a few years ago. She only has her husband. If we have to, we’ll proceed with the surgery. The patient’s life is the priority.”

The voices around me faded in and out. The silence was terrifying. Are they going to give up on me? Am I going to die on this operating table? Will I ever see my child? No, I can’t die. Robert won’t take care of my baby. If I die, my child’s life will be ruined.

I wished I could just be well again.

But all I heard were the frantic shouts of the medical staff. “Where is that blood? The patient is fading!”

“Have you contacted Dr. Robert from Central Hospital? He’s the top authority in OB-GYN. With him here, the success rate would be much higher.”

Dr. Robert? I wanted so badly to speak. To tell them that Dr. Robert, my Robert, was the husband they couldn’t reach.

But I had no chance.

Someone said with a sigh, “Dr. Robert probably won’t come. He took a special seven-day leave. Said he was getting married to his childhood friend and going on a honeymoon.”

“I thought Dr. Robert was going to be a bachelor forever. Whenever we asked if he was married or dating, he always said he didn't need to. Turns out he was in love with his best friend all along.”

So, he had never told his colleagues he was married. No wonder he never let me go to his hospital for my check-ups. He said it would be an inconvenience for his coworkers, but the truth was he didn’t want them to know he had a wife of seven years.

“Forget Dr. Robert. He’s probably celebrating his wedding night right now. Let’s just focus on saving this patient!”

Their words were so clear, yet I couldn't react. The anesthesia seemed to dull the pain but didn't put me completely under. It was torture. I could feel the cold steel of their instruments, sense their tension, and feel the creeping cold in my own body.

Just when I thought I was done for, the head nurse shouted, “Dr. Robert answered his phone!”