Escaping My Husband's Web of Deceit

The pain during my labor was unbearable, and the doctor suggested I get an epidural.

My mother-in-law, Lydia, refused, saying it might harm the baby.

My husband, Marcus Vance, was more concerned about the cost and wouldn't sign the consent form.

In the end, I endured a full day and night of excruciating pain before giving birth to our daughter.

…

They say a woman’s experience during childbirth reveals how her in-laws truly feel about her.

The agony I went through that day and night finally opened my eyes.

My in-laws couldn’t be trusted!

After giving birth, I felt utterly weak. I wasn’t like those fierce new moms online who would smack their husbands the second the baby arrived.

I looked at Marcus, lying next to me, snoring like a pig. If I could just give him a good slap, it would feel so satisfying.

That fierce woman online must have had the privilege of being pampered, right?

But as an orphan, I had nothing.

"Ee-yah…"

My daughter, lying in her crib beside me, stared up with wide eyes, babbling softly.

A warmth bloomed in my chest, and I couldn’t help but gently caress her soft, tender cheek with my fingertips.

"Ee-yah…"

She grabbed my finger with her tiny hand, her soft touch melting my heart.

Right. I had a daughter!

The next day, Lydia called Marcus, urging him to finalize the discharge papers.

It was obvious—she was only concerned about the hospital bills.

After learning I’d given birth to a daughter, Lydia left last night.

Marcus drove silently, not a word leaving his mouth from start to finish.

I sat there, holding our daughter, enduring the cramping pains in my abdomen.

Once we reached the apartment complex, Marcus got out of the car and walked toward the elevator without a word.

I stared at the two bags of luggage and saw a car approaching.

My face drained of color as I crouched down, groaning in pain, each moan worse than the last.

A car door slammed shut, and then I heard a woman’s surprised voice: "Mrs. Vance, what’s wrong?"

I turned to see her. "It hurts!"

She lived in the same building, on the same floor, in unit 2203. Her name was Sylvia Kwan, a strong, independent single woman.

Sylvia rushed over to help me. She glanced at Marcus, who had his back turned, seemingly understanding the situation. She shouted, "Mrs. Vance, you just gave birth! Where’s your husband? How could he leave you to carry the baby alone?"

Marcus turned around and hurried over, helping me up and taking our daughter from my arms. He gave Sylvia an awkward smile. "I was just about to call the elevator. I didn’t know Elara had already gotten out of the car."

Then, he turned to me, annoyed. "I told you to wait in the car!"

I hung my head in silence.

Sylvia, not pleased, snapped at Marcus, "Giving birth is like walking through the gates of hell. As her husband, you should be taking better care of her!"

She reached for the baby without hesitation, saying firmly, "You carry your wife, I’ll take the baby. She just gave birth—she can’t be walking around." Then she looked at the two bags of luggage by the elevator and muttered, "And where’s your mother? You let your wife give birth without any help from her?"

Marcus, flustered, finally picked me up and awkwardly smiled. "Well, my mom’s making chicken soup for Elara. I’ll go grab the luggage later."

"Right."

When we got home, there was no chicken soup waiting for me—just a package of instant noodles.

I quietly ate the noodles and then went to my room, holding my daughter.

Marcus didn’t bother to go back for the luggage, and the baby’s diapers were still there.

Once I changed her, I quietly opened the closet, took some of Marcus’s cotton undershirts, and cut them into pieces to use as diapers.

Our daughter seemed to really enjoy using them.

I tossed the used diapers into the bathroom sink.

Before long, Lydia’s shouting came from outside: "Elara, you lazy thing! Why haven’t you washed the baby’s diapers? You just throw them everywhere!"

“Bang…”