Chapter 2
Edward Quan ·
The moment he saw the word “hospital,” Shen Xinglin bristled.
He clung to the car door and shook his head furiously.
“I'm not going! I'm not having an abortion!”
His mother turned helplessly to me.
“Well…”
Seeing the fear in his eyes, I thought for a moment, then took his hand and softened my voice.
“Don't worry. We're not here for an abortion.”
“We're here… to keep the pregnancy safe.”
He bit his lip and looked at me, wary but hopeful.
“Really? You're not lying? You'll acknowledge our baby?”
That sounded wrong in so many ways.
Under his clear, hopeful gaze, I guiltily nodded.
Sorry, Shen Xinglin.
We're here to get your head fixed.
“Wifey, you're the best! I knew you wouldn't abandon me and our baby!”
He instantly brightened.
Nuzzled against me like an enormous dog, looking so blissful I could practically see a fluffy tail wagging behind him.
I'd never seen him like this.
Never even dared imagine it.
For a long while, I could only stare.
Throughout the examination, he held tightly to my hand.
Nothing could persuade him to let me out of his sight.
His sudden attention and dependence felt unfamiliar.
And, I had to admit, made me happy.
When we'd been dating, he'd been so indifferent to romance that I'd sometimes wondered whether anything besides work existed in his life.
Just then, a doctor called out.
“Shen Xinglin's family? We have his results.”
His mother and I exchanged a glance.
“Here.”
The doctor adjusted his glasses.
“The patient has sustained a brain injury resulting in a fairly large hematoma. It's impaired his brain function and affected his cognition.”
He paused.
“I also suspect he experienced some pregnancy-related emotional shock before the injury. That's why he's identifying himself as a pregnant woman.”
His mother's worried frown froze.
Then she looked joyfully at my stomach.
“Xiaoxin… don't tell me…”
My face went pale.
I hurriedly waved both hands.
“No, Auntie! You've misunderstood!”
She sighed and anxiously turned back to the doctor.
“How do we treat him?”
“For now, the best approach is to go along with his thinking. Don't keep insisting on the facts and distressing him. Once the hematoma gradually resolves, he should return to normal.”
I listened distractedly, glancing behind me.
Shen Xinglin was sitting obediently, one hand on his belly.
When he caught me looking, he gave me a foolish, blissful smile.
I looked away.
Unconsciously glanced down at my own stomach.
My heart pounded.
Just a coincidence?
Or…
Could something really be that strange?
While I was lost in thought, his mother took my hand.
“Xiaoxin, in that case, I'll have to ask you to look after him for a while. You can see what he's like. He thinks the baby is yours and insists you take responsibility.”
“Huh?”
I hesitated.
“But…”
“Don't worry. He's my only son. You won't have to pay for his treatment or living expenses. If you need anything, just tell me. Besides… you're still together, aren't you? You want him to recover soon too, don't you?”
I looked at my stomach.
Then at Shen Xinglin.
Finally, I nodded.
“All right.”
Half an hour later…
I brought my “pregnant” ex home.
Still struggling to accept reality, I leaned against the wall and looked him up and down.
A young CEO, all 185 centimeters of him…
Had suddenly become an expectant dad?
Absurd.
He stood obediently under my scrutiny.
“Wifey,” he said, trying to please me.
His voice had always been beautiful.
Low and magnetic.
That one word made heat flood through me.
A tingle ran down my spine.
He'd never called me anything so intimate before.
Only my full name or “Xiaoxin.”
Sometimes I'd felt more like an employee than his girlfriend.
I stopped him immediately.
“Don't call me that again.”
“Why not?” he asked, wounded.
“Because we're not in that kind of relationship anymore.”
“What would make us that kind of relationship?”
I thought the brain damage must be serious.
So I patiently explained.
“Getting married. Registering the marriage.”
“Oh…”
He wasn't finished.
“When will you register our marriage, then?”
“Never.”
My patience was thinning.
“We've broken up. We're not getting married.”
He went white.
His eyes dimmed.
Then he lunged forward and hugged me tightly, like a big dog abandoned by its owner.
“No! I'm not breaking up with my wife! You promised you wouldn't leave me and the baby. You can't lie!”
He squeezed so hard I could barely breathe.
Annoyed, I thumped him several times.
“Let go!”
His face buried in my neck, he mumbled, “Say we're not breaking up, and I will.”
Fine. I'd soothe him.
It wasn't as though he got to decide whether we broke up.
“All right. We're not breaking up.”
Only then did he release me.
But his head stayed on my shoulder.
“Stand up straight.”
I pushed at him.
“That tickles.”
“My stomach hurts…”
I frowned.
“Why?”
He finally straightened, rubbing his belly with a distressed expression.
“You said we were breaking up…”
“The baby heard and got scared. Kicked me a few times.”
“It hurts.”
Me:
“…”
He took my hand and put it on his stomach.
“Don't say things like that anymore.”
“The baby will be sad.”
“Mr. Shen, I forgot to ask. How many months pregnant are you?”
That stumped our first-time mother-to-be.
He frowned and counted on his long fingers.
Finally:
“Two months.”
I laughed in exasperation.
Rose onto my toes and poked his forehead.
“Two months? The baby's not even fully formed. Where did it get the feet to kick you with?”
He immediately pressed his lips together.
Guiltily rubbed the spot I'd poked and turned his face away.
Just then, my phone rang.
A message from my supervisor.
He wanted me in his office to help with some work.
“I'm going out.”
I gathered my things.
“Stay here. Don't wander off.”
“No!”
His face fell.
He clung to my clothes and looked pitiful.
“Wifey… can't I come?”
“No.”
I unceremoniously pulled his hand away and opened the door, laptop in hand.
“Make your own lunch. Don't call unless you need something.”
A faint, aggrieved “Okay…” followed me out.
At the office, my supervisor wasn't there.
But he'd left a mountain of work.
Just looking at it gave me a headache.
I'd barely sat down when my phone rang.
Thinking it was him, I answered without checking.
“Hello?”
“Wifey.”
Shen Xinglin.
I frowned.
“What?”
Two seconds of silence.
Then, softly:
“I miss you.”
“…”
I lowered the phone, finger hovering over the end-call button.
“I told you not to call unless you needed something!”
I hung up and tried to concentrate.
Before I could even uncap my pen, it rang again.
I answered irritably.
This time, he spoke first.
“Wifey, I really need something!”
He sounded terribly wronged.
“I'm hungry.”
“There's food in the fridge. Cook.”
“Don't know how.”
“Order delivery.”
“Don't know how to do that either.”
I took a deep breath.
“Fine. I'll order for you. I'm busy. Stop bothering me over little things.”
I hung up before he could answer.
Rubbing my temples, I picked up my pen.
Honestly.
Ten minutes, and I hadn't finished a single thing.
How had I never noticed he was this clingy?
Just before the pen touched paper, my phone began its relentless ringing again.
I nearly flipped the desk.
I let it ring for a full minute.
Finally answered through clenched teeth.
“SHEN. XING. LIN.”
His low, magnetic voice came with uneven breathing.
“Wifey… this time, it's serious!”
A vein throbbed in my forehead.
“Talk! It had better be!”
He sniffled softly.
“Don't scold me…”
“My… chest hurts.”
Me:
“?”
He added timidly, “I think… my milk's come in. Could you come home and check?”
Me:
“???”
Good thing I had self-control.
Otherwise, I'd have started swearing right there.
“Shen Xinglin!”
I shouted.
“You're a man! What milk?!”
“It's true…”
“Look… It really hurts…”
As he spoke, an MMS arrived.
A photograph.
His head was lowered, the hem of his T-shirt between his teeth.
The raised fabric revealed firm abs, beautiful collarbones, and the perfect line of his jaw.
His long-fingered hand rested on his solid chest.
Lips pressed together.
An expression of faint pain.
In an instant…
My face burned.
My heart went wild.
My hand shook so badly I nearly dropped the phone.
Was I allowed to see this for free?
I didn't know about his milk coming in.
But his chest…
Might actually be bigger than mine.
On the phone, he kept pleading like a pitiful puppy.
“It hurts… I'm going to die… Wifey… I'm having your baby… Can't you come home and stay with me…”
I inhaled deeply.
Repeated ten times in my head:
Form is emptiness. Emptiness is form.
Then…
Blocked him at lightning speed.
That evening, I came home from work.
Before I'd even stepped through the doorway, I could feel resentment filling the air.
I looked up.
Sure enough.
Shen Xinglin was curled in the corner of the sofa, utterly dejected.
When he saw me, he ran over with his phone.
“Wifey… why didn't you answer my calls?”
I was about to explain that I'd blocked him.
But…
He suddenly hurled his phone to the floor.
Stomped on it several times.
“I know! This bad phone ate all my calls to Wifey! That's why she couldn't get them!”
He kept stamping furiously.
“It's all this nasty phone's fault! Wifey loves me and the baby most. She'd never ignore my calls!”
Me:
“…”
He immediately smiled and took my bag.
His eyes sparkled.
“Right, Wifey?”
Faced with all that hope, I felt a little guilty.
Quietly turned away.
And unblocked Shen Xinglin.