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墨書 Inktalez
But such good days did not last long.
A month after our wedding, I suddenly fainted in the kitchen. When I woke up, the doctor told us that I was pregnant.
"Really? We're going to have a baby?" He excitedly picked me up and spun me around.
"Be careful, don't hurt the baby," I reminded him with a smile.
Both sets of parents were thrilled about the upcoming new life. However, his mother insisted on coming to live with us, claiming it was to take care of me.
"You work so much, I'm afraid you won't have time to take care of her," his mother said worriedly.
"Mom, we hired a nanny, so you don't need to worry," I tried to reassure her.
But my parents disagreed; they believed hiring a nanny was enough. The conflict between both sides began to surface, and arguments between him and me increased.
"Why can't you understand how my mom feels?" he said impatiently.
"I also need my parents' support; they want what's best for us," I argued back.
Later, he chose to compromise for the sake of the child.
When I was five months pregnant, his company took on a big project, and my father recognized his abilities and decided to let him take charge. This increased his pressure significantly, and he began working late into the night every day.
"Have you been drinking again?" I looked at him, intoxicated and slumped over, feeling both heartbroken and helpless.
"It's just socializing; there's nothing I can do," he waved his hand dismissively and walked into the bathroom.
I stood in the living room, feeling a mix of emotions. I wanted to share his burden but felt powerless.
That night, I was startled awake by a loud crash. My heart raced as I rushed into the living room. There he was, drunkenly slumped on the floor, surrounded by shattered vase pieces.
"Honey, what happened?" I anxiously reached out to help him up.
"Don't touch me!" he suddenly yelled angrily, swinging his hand violently. I lost my balance and crashed into the stair railing.
The pain coursed through my body like an electric current, and I clutched my stomach, gasping for breath. The nanny heard the commotion and rushed out; upon seeing the scene, she hurriedly called for an ambulance. Meanwhile, he lay on the sofa, seemingly unfazed, continuing to sleep.
After that day, our relationship shattered like a broken vase, impossible to piece back together. The child... our child could not be saved either. Under the cold hospital lights, I watched as the doctor held the tiny embryo that showed no signs of life, tears silently streaming down my face. He sat at the edge of the bed, a look of helplessness and despair on his face.
"How could this happen..." he murmured to himself, his voice filled with self-blame. My father's anger came like a storm; in a fit of rage, he revoked all of his rights at the company. The atmosphere at home became oppressive; he began to drown himself in alcohol every day, unable to escape.
I held onto the child's clothes, hiding in my room as tears soaked my collar. Our home was shrouded in gloom. Not long after, he was hospitalized due to excessive drinking. I stood by his bedside, listening to his mother's cries, my heart aching like it was being torn apart.
"It's all your fault, you Jinx!" she screamed at me, pointing her finger with hoarse desperation. I stood there dazed, letting her accusations and insults stab at my heart like knives. Until my mother burst in and slapped me hard across the face with a resounding "smack!" That slap was crisp and loud, instantly waking me up. I covered my face in disbelief as I looked at my mother—the once gentle woman now wore a face full of anger.
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