Lina Jenkins had enjoyed a peaceful night at the maternity center, a place known for its tranquility and privacy. The following morning, she received a call from Carson Adams. His voice was sharp and impatient.

"You realize how pricey these private clinics are, right? If there's nothing urgent, just discharge yourself. It's year-end, and I'm buried in work. I can't pick you up; you'll have to take a cab."

At that moment, Lina was comfortably nestled among plush pillows, sipping on a nutritious broth prepared by Zainab Chapman, the nutritionist. Charli Wells, the caregiver, was attentively explaining the details of the postnatal recovery program to her. Lina replied calmly, enjoying the warmth of the setting, "No rush, let’s wait until I’ve completed the postpartum recovery."

Carson's frustration was evident. "You think you can stay in a private clinic for your whole maternity leave? Do you even know how much that costs?!"

With a light laugh, Lina responded, "Two hundred grand. Just charged it to the card; it's still warm if you'd like to see the receipt."

Carson burst out. "You said you were broke when I wanted to upgrade our car! And now you're spending two hundred grand on a maternity center stay?! Are you out of your mind, Lina Jenkins? Refund the money immediately and come home!"

Ignoring his frantic shouting on the other end, Lina Jenkins hung up the phone and tossed it aside. She recalled their disagreement about choosing a maternity hospital.

Carson thought it was wasteful to go to a private hospital. "My mom didn't even go to a hospital when she had me, and it didn't cost her anything. Why are you making such a big deal out of this? Plenty of women give birth without all the extras," he insisted.

"I can pay for it myself," Lina countered.

Carson's expression darkened. "When are you going to stop spending money so recklessly? Give me your bank card to manage! Otherwise, you'll ruin this family financially."

All of Lina Jenkins' savings were securely stashed away in a bank account. Carson Adams didn't know the exact amount, but he had suggested several times that they might trade their car for a new one, invest in some promising venture, or lend it to a close friend who was really in need. Each time, Lina found ways to politely refuse, countering his suggestions with a range of reasons.

Frustrated and embarrassed, Carson lashed out, declaring he wouldn’t give her any more money and that she could raise their daughter on her own. He assumed he could pressure Lina with the threat of cutting off financial support, unaware that money was the least of her concerns.

During their tense dinner, Carson reached for the platter of ravioli instead of the typical dinner rolls, stuffing one into his mouth as he glared at Lina. She calmly sipped her coffee, keeping her gaze steady.

Victorian-style dresses hung in the room, as if in memory of a festive Thanksgiving, a stark contrast to the palpable tension between them. Lina glanced out the window, picturing the breathtaking view of the Alps, distant and unattainable but as serene as ever.

Their WhatsApp messages remained unopened, a clear sign of the communication breakdown between them, like the stuffed ravioli now congealing on Carson's plate.