The Choice to Abort
By the fifth year of my marriage to River Grayson, I had stopped checking his call logs and chat records. Instead, I spent my nights drinking and partying with my girlfriends at the poolside bar.
When his ninety-ninth missed call lit up my screen, I let out a cold laugh and tossed my phone straight into the water.
It didn't take long before he came storming in. The moment he pulled the strawberry-scented condom out of my pocket, he turned grim and banned me from leaving the house after 7:00 PM.
"Joanne, you weren't like this before."
I thought back to last month, when I had run into him at the hospital. He had lied about being on a business trip out of town, but there he was, holding Yvonne Sinclair's hand. I still remembered his words.
"You lost your uterus from saving me back then. My sperm is perfectly fine. I'll give you a child—with your mother's help."
Now, staring into his furious eyes, I said coldly, "Don't worry. There's no going back for us anymore."