Chapter 3He Signed My Abortion Paper

I looked at Denis. "Did you know there was peanut powder in that tea?"

Susie stepped forward, sobbing. "I'm so sorry, Nicole! Please don't blame Denis. It's my fault!"

"I read an article saying peanuts are great for prenatal development, so I suggested he grind some into the tea. I didn't mean to..."

I closed my eyes, forcing down the rage. "You knew I was severely allergic. You put it in there anyway. Are you trying to kill me?"

Before Susie could even whimper, Denis shielded her behind his back. "Nicole, that's enough. Susie is gentle and kind. She was only trying to help."

My mother, unable to contain her fury, stood up and slapped Denis hard across the face.

"How dare you?" she spat, her voice trembling. "Nicole is your wife! She was carrying your child, and you're defending this girl over her?"

Denis touched his reddened cheek, his first instinct to defend her: "Mom, Susie isn't an outsider. She's my... she's my sister."

Susie rushed to touch his face, glaring at my mother. "How could you hit him? We're just trying to help!"

My mother's anger boiled over. "Save the fragile little victim act, you manipulative snake—"

But in the next second, Denis shoved my mother away to protect Susie. My mother lost her footing, her head striking the sharp metal corner of the bedside table. Blood began to seep onto her hair.

Denis stood over us, his eyes cold as he kept Susie behind him. "Mom, you can hit me, and I'll take it. But Susie is pregnant. No matter what, you do not put your hands on her."

"You protect your own, and I protect mine. You care about Nicole; I care about Susie."

He cast a freezing look at me. "I'll come back when you've calmed down."

With that, he guided Susie out of the room.

I scrambled out of bed, weeping as I called for a nurse. As my mother's head was being bandaged, my chest ached with a physical, suffocating regret.

I regretted every single second of the five years I had wasted on him.

My mother tried to comfort me. "I'm fine, sweetie. Don't cry. It's bad for the baby."

I wiped my tears. "There is no baby, Mom."

She froze. "What?"

"I had an abortion three days ago. And I'm divorcing him."

After a long silence, my mother pulled me into her arms, gently patting my back. "Whatever you decide, I'm with you. You have me, Nicole. Always."

I buried my face in her shoulder and finally wept for the marriage that had died long before the child did.

Three days later, my relocation request was approved. I booked a one-way ticket to London for that very night.