The Revenge After Husband Remarried

"Aaaakh!"

The scream echoed down the hospital corridor. Her breath came in short gasps, her left hand gripping the edge of the gurney tightly, while her right hand fumbled for the phone that was about to slip from her fingers.

"Nurse... please, I'm... I'm about to give birth," she whispered through clenched teeth, sweat pouring down her forehead. Her stomach tightened again-another contraction, stronger than the last. Her water had broken thirty minutes ago. But that wasn't the worst part-what truly hurt was that she was going through all of this alone.

Her trembling fingers pressed redial. The name "My Husband" lit up the screen.

Beep... Beep... Click.

"Hello?" a man's voice answered on the other end. It sounded rushed-and completely devoid of warmth.

"Raka... please, I-I'm going into labor. I'm already at the hospital. I need you," her voice was barely audible. Her tears mixed with the pain, her hope wearing thin.

"Oh come on, Aira! Why are you calling now?! I'm busy!" Raka snapped. Noise echoed in the background. A woman's laughter. The clink of glasses.

Aira fell silent. Her tongue felt heavy. But the next contraction made her cry out again. "I need you, Raka. Please... I'm alone. My water broke. You promised you'd be with me during labor, remember?"

There was a pause. Then a deep sigh from Raka. "Don't be so dramatic. You're at the hospital, right? There are plenty of nurses there. Let them take care of you. I can't come now. Don't be selfish."

Click.

The call ended.

The world seemed to crash down on her fragile, already broken body.

The nurse pushing her gurney gave her a sympathetic look but remained calm and focused on her job.

"Stay strong, ma'am. We're here to help you. Deep breaths now... we're heading to the delivery room."

Aira shut her eyes, trying to summon strength-from within, for herself, and for the baby growing inside her.

But as the gurney passed by the maternity observation room, her eyes caught something. Someone.

That figure.

That man.

Raka.

He stood beside a young woman, whose belly was also heavily pregnant. His hand gently rested on the woman's shoulder, his expression filled with tenderness. A face completely different from the one who had answered the phone earlier.

The woman smiled sweetly, gazing at Raka with love.

And Raka-her husband-smiled back.

Aira froze.

The contraction pain that just struck her felt like a breeze compared to the pain piercing her heart.

"Mr. Raka, your wife's pregnancy is at 34 weeks, correct? We'll check the fetal heartbeat now," the doctor said as he examined the woman.

Wife?!

Aira almost laughed-if her body weren't already shattered by pain.

So... this was the reason Raka didn't come?

Because he was with another woman?

And not just any woman-but someone being referred to as his wife?

"Ma'am, hang in there... we're almost at the delivery room," the nurse said gently.

Aira bit her lip. Her tears flowed freely. She wanted to scream. To march over and curse him in front of everyone. But her body was too weak. Too broken.

And yet... she had to be strong.

Not for Raka.

But for the baby she had fought so hard to bring into this world.

---

The delivery room was cold. The bright white lights were blinding, the antiseptic smell overpowering. The sound of medical equipment, beeping monitors, and doctors barking instructions filled the air.

"Come on, Mrs. Aira. One more strong push!" the midwife urged.

Aira bit down on the cloth in her mouth, her body drenched in sweat. She held back her sobs-not just from the pain, but from a wound much deeper. The wound of betrayal.

"Push... just one more!"

With every ounce of strength left in her, Aira pushed. Her scream rang through the room, then-

A baby's cry.

The purest sound she had ever heard.

The midwife lifted the red, wriggling baby and smiled. "It's a boy! Congratulations, Mrs. Aira."

Aira cried. But this time... she smiled through the tears. Her heart ached, but it was warm.

This was the moment she had longed for.

And even though she was alone... she had done it.

She had brought her child into the world.

Without Raka.

Without the man she once believed would love her forever.

---

Hours later, Aira lay in the recovery room. Her tiny baby slept peacefully in the transparent crib beside her. She couldn't stop staring at his face.

The door creaked open. Raka walked in, still wearing the same shirt from earlier-when she'd seen him in the maternity ward. His eyes scanned the room, landing on the crib.

"You've already given birth?" he asked flatly.

Aira turned her head slowly. "Yes. You came now... after it's all over?"

Raka stepped closer. "I was taking a female friend to the doctor earlier. You understand, right? I couldn't just leave when you called."

Aira gave a bitter smile. "A friend? The one the doctor called your 'wife'?"

Raka's face tightened. He looked away. "That's... none of your business. Don't start drama, Aira. You've just given birth, don't let your mind run wild."

"Run wild?" Aira chuckled weakly, then looked at him sharply. "I went through hell to deliver your child alone, Raka. Meanwhile, you-the man who was supposed to be by my side-were holding another woman's hand in an OB room. And you think I'm being dramatic?"

Raka was silent. He glanced at the baby for a moment, then sighed. "I... I'm not ready to be a father. Everything happened too fast. I feel trapped. You know I still want my freedom..."

Thud.

It was like being slapped again and again.

"Trapped?" she repeated softly but firmly. "So this baby was a trap? Our marriage was a trap?"

Raka didn't answer. He just looked down, then turned away. "I need time. We'll talk later. I'm leaving."

Without another word, he walked out. The door closed. His footsteps faded into the hallway.

Aira cried. But not a weak cry.

This was a cry of release.

She looked at her baby, then whispered, "I promise you, my love. We'll be okay. Even without your father. Because you are enough. More than enough."

---

Days passed.

Aira was discharged. Raka never came back. No message. No flowers. Not even a single word of congratulations.

And that was all the answer she needed.

She packed her belongings slowly and signed the discharge papers.

In her arms, her tiny baby slept peacefully. Unaware of the storm surrounding his mother.

As Aira left the ward, a nurse looked at her with empathy.

"Stay strong, ma'am. Many mothers go through labor alone. But their children grow up strong-because they have strong mothers."

Aira smiled. "Thank you. I'll be one of those mothers."

Her steps were steady. Leaving behind the place that had witnessed her heart shatter and rebuild. And she knew, from this moment on... she was no longer the same woman.