Chapter 3

Myrtle's mother looked at me with grief and fury both.

"When you married Myrtle, what did you promise us?"

"You said you'd love her well your whole life, that you'd cherish her with your life. And look at what you did."

"Over a bit of cab fare, you nearly killed Myrtle and the baby both!"

"Look at how worn down she is. How much have you made her suffer?"

I looked at Myrtle, at that pale, wasted face, and I couldn't help remembering the last ten months of her life.

Early in the pregnancy, the morning sickness was brutal. Whatever she ate came back up. She couldn't work, so she quit.

By then every cent of her savings had already gone to paying off my debt. Nothing left.

After she quit she had no income. Nauseous and miserable, she wanted a sour plum to settle her stomach and asked me for twenty dollars. I didn't give it to her.

In the end she dragged her weak body down to the convenience store at the entrance of the complex and used the last few coins she had to buy a bottle of sour plum drink.

In the middle of the pregnancy her legs swelled up badly, and even walking was hard. She'd heard that soaking her feet in salt water would bring the swelling down, so she wanted me to pick up a bag of salt on my way home from work.

But she hadn't transferred me the money for the salt ahead of time, and by our agreement I had no obligation to pay for anything out of my own pocket.

So instead I turned around and went out drinking with friends.

That day she waited for me all night. In the end, no bag of salt ever came.

She had no money for a single prenatal checkup, so she borrowed from one online payday loan platform after another.

In the end she couldn't repay any of it, got blacklisted by all of them, and had collectors after her every single day.

Every one of these things, I kept in my heart.

"I know it wasn't easy for her."

"But splitting every expense down the middle was something we agreed on. That's not on me."

Myrtle's mother was shaking with rage.

"Agreed on?"

"Setting up a split-the-bills arrangement when your own wife is pregnant and can't work. Is that something a human being does?"

I said, helpless, "But she agreed to it herself, with her own mouth."

Slap!

My father couldn't take any more. He struck me hard across the face.

"You worthless bastard!"

"Myrtle agreed back then because she trusted you, because she loved you, because she thought you had some sense of limits."

"Who could have guessed you were this cold-hearted, that you'd gamble with your own wife and child's lives over some verbal agreement!"

The blow came out of nowhere, and my vision went black.

I held my cheek and stared at my father, stunned.

He was beside himself, his eyes fixed on me, red as if they were bleeding.

The whole room fell dead silent.

The next second, I heard Myrtle's voice, weak and full of worry.

"Dad, don't hit Jim."

"I don't blame him."

I turned to look and saw Myrtle force herself up and walk slowly over until she stood in front of me.

She looked at my parents and her own, and said faintly,

"Dad, Mom, stop yelling at Jim."

"It's my fault. I agreed to split the bills. I'm the one with no ability, the one who couldn't earn any money..."

"Myrtle!"

Her mother stamped her foot, aching for her.

"Even now you're still speaking up for him?"

"Open your eyes and take a good look at how he treats you."

"Ten months carrying his child and he nickel-and-dimed you the whole way. Your water broke and he ignored it. How much longer are you going to suffer for an animal like this?"

Her father pointed at me too, indignant.

"Jim, I'm putting it plainly right here."

"The moment Myrtle recovers, we're filing for divorce."

"We're taking the child. From now on, don't ever dream of seeing Myrtle or the baby again."

I glanced instinctively toward the crib.

The little one, as if he sensed something, lay there with a pair of round dark eyes, gazing at me in innocent bewilderment.

Looking at that tiny face, nine parts the image of my own, something deep in me softened for a moment.

Just then a nurse came out with the paperwork and spoke up.

"Family, please note. The mother's follow-up anti-inflammatory medication, the postpartum recovery program, plus the newborn's formula and checkup fees all need to be paid as soon as possible."

I frowned and snapped back to my senses at once.

"Divorce is fine. But the cost of this hospital stay and the delivery, and the ambulance she called tonight, those need to be settled clearly. Don't try to pin them on me."