Chapter 2

It was peak visiting hours, and people were flowing in and out of the OB-GYN clinic.

I stood there observing for a few minutes before a nurse approached and asked if I was waiting for someone.

"No, not waiting for anyone," I replied casually, then couldn't resist asking, "What are all these people here for?"

A middle-aged woman in line nearby had a short fuse. Hearing my question, she snapped instantly, pointing right at my face. "What do you mean, what for? Are you saying I'm sick?!"

I was taken aback. "Well, yeah. Why else would you be at a hospital?"

Before the woman could blow her lid, the nurse stepped in to calm her down. The woman scoffed, rolling her eyes at me. "I'm here for a prenatal checkup! Ever heard of one?"

It hit me. I looked closely at the number above her head. It was a glaring 2.

"So... you've been pregnant twice before?" I blurted out.

The woman frowned. "Three times! The first two didn't make it—had to get terminated... Wait, how the hell do you know that? Are you some kind of creep spying on people?"

Terminated twice?

So the numbers represented... abortions?

That explained why every man had a 0!

My mind instantly flashed to the 4 floating above Chloe's head. Did that mean she had four abortions?

No, that made no sense! In all our years of marriage, we never planned on having kids. We always used protection, and she never once told me she was pregnant!

A gnawing dread clawed at my chest. Desperate to confirm if my hunch was real—and praying to God it was just a hallucination—I acted on impulse.

I grabbed another woman waiting in line, stared at the number above her head, and asked if she had aborted one child before.

"Who the hell are you? Why should I tell you—"

Before she could finish, I pulled a five-hundred-dollar wad of cash from my wallet and shoved it into her hand.

Pocketing the cash, she looked at me with deep suspicion. "Yeah... how did you know that? I took pills to terminate a pregnancy years ago. I never told a soul. How could you possibly know?"

It felt like lightning struck my skull. I stood frozen in place.

The number really meant abortion count!

Then... what about the 4 above Chloe's head?

We had been married for three years. We never had kids, always used protection, and she never mentioned being pregnant, let alone having an abortion.

Yet that number told me, in plain black and white, that she had gone through four!

What was going on? Had our birth control failed without my knowledge?

I wanted desperately to ask her, but the words stuck in my throat. I was terrified that asking would smash our marriage to pieces beyond repair.

Chloe seemed to pick up on my strange vibe and asked gently, "What's wrong? Feeling sick again?"

I shook my head, forced a smile, and took the porridge from her, swallowing it down in huge gulps. It was the perfect temperature, but inside, my gut felt like it was on fire.

After finishing, I made up an excuse about being tired and told her to head home first. She seemed worried, but listened and left. I stood by the window, watching her silhouette disappear down the street, my heart tangled in knots.

I couldn't live like this. I had to find out the truth behind that 4, or it would eat me alive.

After agonizing over it, I decided to secretly check Chloe’s phone.

Deep down, the one thing I needed to know was: Was she cheating on me?

I was discharged that day and rested at home.

That evening, while Chloe was in the shower, I wrestled with whether to check her phone.

Right then, her phone buzzed repeatedly on the coffee table. Incoming messages.

That was when I noticed she had left it face down.