"If you hadn't insisted on calling me at that moment, I wouldn't have been distracted, and Rose wouldn't have run into a dangerous area out of shock."

Greg spoke with conviction. Each of his words felt like nails piercing Ronda's heart.

"Moreover, when the rescue team carried you out, you clung to the stretcher with all your might and refused to leave. You frightened Rose. She's in a very unstable mental state now, constantly murmuring apologies to you. You'd better go and tell her that you're okay so she can recover peacefully."

"I'm not going." Ronda closed her eyes, and tears finally fell. "Greg, get out."

"Ronda!" Greg didn't expect that his usually gentle and forbearing wife dared to speak to him like that. His anger flared instantly. He grabbed her uninjured left shoulder tightly. "Don't act like this. As the spouse of the director, you must be showing leadership and compassion now, not being petty. What will people say about you if they see you like this? Rose is such a kind-hearted woman, and you caused her to be like this. Don't you feel guilty?"

"Is she kind-hearted?" Ronda's eyes snapped open, filled with hatred. "She's kind-hearted, so she entered a dangerous construction site when she was aware of danger? She's kind-hearted, so she clung to your hand, cried out in fear, and told you not to bother with me when she saw me trapped? Greg, are you blind?"

"Shut up!"

Greg released his grip abruptly. Ronda, already weak, was thrown against the iron railing of the bed with a heavy thud.

The dull sound echoed.

Ronda felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. A warm liquid flowed out instantly.

Her face turned ashen as she clutched her abdomen and curled up in agony. "It hurts! My abdomen..."

Greg looked at Ronda with more disdain. "Are you pretending again? Ronda, how many times are you going to constantly sound false alarms? Last time you pretended to have a stomachache. The time before you feigned a headache. Now you are telling me you have abdominal pain? You're a doctor. Could you at least make your act convincing?"

"Help... the baby..." Ronda was sweating from the pain. Her fingers gripped Greg's sleeve tightly, and her knuckles turned pale. "Greg, please... call the obstetrics department... I'm pregnant..."

Greg stiffened as he looked down at her pain-contorted face. A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes.

But soon he started being ironic. "Are you pregnant? You said that last time to trick me into going home, and what happened?"

Greg coldly removed her grip and continued, "Ronda, you've repeated the same lie three times this month. I don't have more patience with you. If you don't apologize to Rose, I'll cut off all the research funding for the neurosurgery department this year."

With that, he disdainfully brushed off the wrinkles from his sleeve where she had grabbed it and strode out.

"Greg!" Ronda cried out desperately, and the warm liquid beneath her kept spreading, staining her hospital scrubs and the white sheets.

That was her husband, whom she had loved for ten years.

She had fought to marry him against her family's objections back then.

To him, her life-threatening situation was a ploy for sympathy, and her unbearable pain was a poor performance. Even the baby in her womb was nothing but a tool for gaining his favor.

"Nurse... help..." Ronda mustered the last of her strength to press the call button by her bed. Her vision darkened as she became unconscious again.

Before completely losing consciousness, she heard Greg's tender voice in the hallway. He had never been so tender to her.

"Don't be afraid, Rose. I'm here. That hysterical woman is fine. She just wants to scare you... Be good. Take your medicine. I'll help you with it."

Chapter 2

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