The Ex Who Stole My Delivery Room - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
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My legs shook with fury as I stormed down the hallway, each step fueled by betrayal. Harris's desperate calls echoed behind me.
"Darcy! Wait! Please just hear me out!"
I clenched my jaw, refusing to turn around. Excuses? Justifications? I didn't want any of it. All I wanted was distance.
When I finally reached my ward, I slammed through the doors, gasping. Harris caught up instantly, grabbing my arm.
"Please," he rasped, eyes pleading. "Just listen."
I yanked my arm free. "What could you possibly say, Harris?" My voice was ice. "'Sorry'? That it was all some big misunderstanding?"
He faltered. "I—I can explain..."
"Explain?" I laughed bitterly. "You abandoned me in labor to play happy family with your ex. You cradled her baby like it was yours—like you never stopped loving her. What's left to explain?"
Harris recoiled, then stiffened. "It's not what you think. Cindy and I have history, yes, but I'm committed to you. I love you."
"You love me?" My laugh was sharp. "Funny way of showing it."
He stepped closer, desperation burning in his gaze. "Darcy, please. I'll do anything to fix this."
I turned away. "Too late. I don't want your apologies. I don't want you. Just leave."
His face crumpled—but I didn't care. As I strode into the ward, he followed, only to freeze at the sight of the empty crib.
"Where's our baby?" Horror edged his voice.
I let out a hollow laugh. "Our baby? What did you expect would happen after you left me like that?"
His face drained of color. "Darcy, what are you saying? Where is he?"
"Gone." The word was flat.
Harris pulled me into a shaky embrace. "It's okay... We'll have another."
My fists clenched at his audacity, but I stayed silent—until a nurse rushed in.
"Mr. Salvador! Your wife is dizzy—she can't calm the baby. He won't stop crying!"
Harris stiffened. "Cindy? What's wrong?" He took two steps toward the door before catching himself, guilt flashing across his face. But concern won. Without another word, he bolted.
The nurse tutted. "Now that's a devoted husband. Where's yours? Shouldn't he be here?"
I almost laughed. The man she praised was the one she scorned.
Then another nurse entered, cradling a tiny bundle. "Congratulations! Your son's out of NICU—he's healthy."
Yes, my baby boy had survived. The dirty water he'd ingested had caused jaundice, requiring treatment. When I'd said "gone," I meant for care—but Harris assumed the worst. And his first thought? Racing to Cindy's side without even asking where his child's body was.
Maybe it was better this way.
Just then, a man stepped from behind the curtains, studying me. "So? What's your decision?"
My voice didn't waver. "I'm divorcing him."
"Darcy! Wait! Please just hear me out!"
I clenched my jaw, refusing to turn around. Excuses? Justifications? I didn't want any of it. All I wanted was distance.
When I finally reached my ward, I slammed through the doors, gasping. Harris caught up instantly, grabbing my arm.
"Please," he rasped, eyes pleading. "Just listen."
I yanked my arm free. "What could you possibly say, Harris?" My voice was ice. "'Sorry'? That it was all some big misunderstanding?"
He faltered. "I—I can explain..."
"Explain?" I laughed bitterly. "You abandoned me in labor to play happy family with your ex. You cradled her baby like it was yours—like you never stopped loving her. What's left to explain?"
Harris recoiled, then stiffened. "It's not what you think. Cindy and I have history, yes, but I'm committed to you. I love you."
"You love me?" My laugh was sharp. "Funny way of showing it."
He stepped closer, desperation burning in his gaze. "Darcy, please. I'll do anything to fix this."
I turned away. "Too late. I don't want your apologies. I don't want you. Just leave."
His face crumpled—but I didn't care. As I strode into the ward, he followed, only to freeze at the sight of the empty crib.
"Where's our baby?" Horror edged his voice.
I let out a hollow laugh. "Our baby? What did you expect would happen after you left me like that?"
His face drained of color. "Darcy, what are you saying? Where is he?"
"Gone." The word was flat.
Harris pulled me into a shaky embrace. "It's okay... We'll have another."
My fists clenched at his audacity, but I stayed silent—until a nurse rushed in.
"Mr. Salvador! Your wife is dizzy—she can't calm the baby. He won't stop crying!"
Harris stiffened. "Cindy? What's wrong?" He took two steps toward the door before catching himself, guilt flashing across his face. But concern won. Without another word, he bolted.
The nurse tutted. "Now that's a devoted husband. Where's yours? Shouldn't he be here?"
I almost laughed. The man she praised was the one she scorned.
Then another nurse entered, cradling a tiny bundle. "Congratulations! Your son's out of NICU—he's healthy."
Yes, my baby boy had survived. The dirty water he'd ingested had caused jaundice, requiring treatment. When I'd said "gone," I meant for care—but Harris assumed the worst. And his first thought? Racing to Cindy's side without even asking where his child's body was.
Maybe it was better this way.
Just then, a man stepped from behind the curtains, studying me. "So? What's your decision?"
My voice didn't waver. "I'm divorcing him."
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