He Traded My Life For An Heir
Language: en
The day I went to the hospital for my follow-up, the nurse called a name through the hallway intercom: Ethan Hayes. I lifted my head from my charts and saw him stepping out of the maternity wing. In his arms, he held a bundle wrapped in a soft blue-and-pink receiving blanket. Clinging to his arm was a young woman, laughing, her head resting on his shoulder as she called him babe. When Ethan’s eyes met mine, the smile on his face froze into stone. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I just felt a sudden, deafening ringing in my ears, like a flashbang had gone off inside my skull. Behind me, my…