We had been married for five years, but Chuck Gorman spent more than half his time at the condo opposite the river.

He claimed that his older brother, Calvin, had passed away at a young age, leaving behind his widow, who had no one to depend on, and that as Calvin's brother, he was responsible for taking care of both families. This was a Gorman family value of upholding loyalty and kinship.

I had believed his words then.

To help him uphold his loyalty and dignity, I tolerated it whenever he was absent during important holidays and said nothing when he split his time between his sister-in-law and me during Christmas dinner. I even had to hold back my tongue when others mocked me for being a weak woman who was willing to 'share her husband'.

However, Chuck had always been gentle yet distant when he spoke to me.

This continued until we were involved in an accident with several collisions. The car we were in was wrecked.

As I shielded my heavily pregnant belly, I broke out in cold sweat from the pain. I kept hitting the window while shouting, "Chuck! Save the baby…"

Chuck climbed out from the driver's seat and glanced at my bleeding body, only to turn away to pry open the car door of the back seat. He shielded Sandi Lemming tightly in his arms, holding her against his chest despite her suffering only minor scratches on the forehead.

"Don't look, Sandi. It's okay. I'm right here."

He patted her gently on the back while comforting her over and over to calm her nerves.

As for me, I was stuck inside the car due to the dented car door.

I realized that it was not loyalty and kinship he was practising. He was just unable to see Sandi come to harm at all.

The ambulance arrived at the scene as firefighters were trying to unclamp me from the car door using hydraulic pliers.

I looked down below my car seat to see my blood while my abdomen throbbed with intense pain. My hands were placed protectively around my belly, which contained the baby I had been carrying for seven months, and I wondered if it was still moving.

While I was being transported limply into the ambulance on a gurney, the paramedic placed an oxygen mask over my face while shouting out, "Where's her family? How long has she been pregnant? Is there any information about her pregnancy?"

Chuck Gorman was busy wiping the minor wound on Sandi Lemming's temple with a piece of tissue as the paramedic shouted the question again. He looked at me and told the paramedic, "The baby is 29 weeks old… That's all I know about it."

That was all he knew about it.

Every time I returned from the gynaecologist, I would place the report in the second drawer of the table inside the study, but he never looked at any of the reports. Yet, when it came to Sandi, he could remember all of her medical allergies, which knee she had hurt herself, and how long she liked her tea to sit in hot water.

When the paramedics pushed the gurney toward the ambulance, I turned to look at him, but he did not follow them. Sandi was holding his arm and leaning onto his chest while trembling. Chuck's head was lowered as he pressed his hand behind her head. "Don't look over there. Everything will be fine. Just shut your eyes. I'm here, right by your side."

I watched him help Sandi into another car as the ambulance doors closed before me.

The moment I arrived at the hospital, I was pushed into the surgery room right away. I bit my lip, trying not to scream, but my tears could not stop flowing as they dripped from the oxygen mask while the nurses kept knocking on the outside and calling out, "We need a signature from a family member! We need the consent form for a Caesarean section rescue. Are there any family members of the patient here?!"

Chuck entered the room and took the pen from the nurse to sign his name at the bottom form with trembling hands. I thought he would come over to my side, but he took out his phone to pick up a call after he was done signing it.

His voice was lowered, but I could still hear what he said, "Don't worry, Sandi. The medical report will be out very soon. I told Peter to stay with you for now. I'll head over once I'm done signing the form."

I slowly lost consciousness as the doctors administered anaesthesia to me. I had no idea how long the surgery took, but when I woke up, it was already the middle of the night. Tania Walker was sitting next to my bed with red, swollen eyes.

The first words I spoke were, "Where's my baby?"

Tania did not answer me. I looked at her face and closed my eyes. I could hear my mother-in-law lowering her voice outside my hospital room. "Don't worry about this, Sandi. Chuck had made all the arrangements. You should go back to sleep and take care of yourself…"

No one mentioned my baby. It was as if the baby, who had been living inside me for seven months and who I had given a nickname, the little life whom I had knitted a baby hat for, had never existed.

Chuck did visit me once after that, but all he did was stand at the end of my bed and stay silent for a long time before saying, "I got the confinement center to reserve a place for you. You should just focus on recovering."

He did not apologize nor mention our baby, and I said nothing.

Tania came by the next day to show me the images recorded by the car's dashcam. The first picture showed Chuck standing next to the car door where my seat was with his hand on the bent frame of the door. The second picture showed him turning away from the back seat to pull open the door where Sandi was.

I stared at the picture while my fingers pressed hard on it.

That was when I realized that Chuck's excuse that everything happened too fast was a lie. All he did was choose another woman over me.

I flipped the pictures over and placed them on my bed while my palm pressed on my empty belly. I could not stop crying, and I closed my eyes when I heard someone whisper outside the door that Sandi was still in shock. I looked away and turned to the dark corner of my room.

That night was the first time I did not wait for Chuck to come back.

Chuck came to pick me up from the hospital on the day I was discharged. He opened the car door and placed his hand on my back tenderly with consideration. However, I remained silent after getting into the car. When we arrived at our home, he got out of the car to move my luggage.

When I entered the living room, I noticed a brown medical kit on the table and a beige wool scarf hanging on the armrest of the sofa, which did not belong to me. Next to the television was the memorial portrait of Chuck's older brother, Calvin.

I stood at the door without moving, and Chuck paused while changing into his slippers behind me. "Sandi hasn't been in a great state the past two days, and it isn't safe for her to be alone at night, as she's terrified when she's alone. I got her to stay with us for a few days until her condition stabilizes."

All I did was head toward the bedroom without saying anything.

When I pushed our bedroom door open, I saw Sandi arranging pill bottles next to my bed. She was wearing my house slippers, and she stood up right away when she saw me walk in. "You're home, Nicole."

Her voice lowered. "I'm just afraid of the dark and can't handle it being alone. Chuck let me stay here for a couple of nights until I'm feeling well enough to move back. Don't worry, I won't give you any trouble."

I stared at the slippers she was wearing. They were slippers with soft padding that I had been using since I got pregnant. Chuck had spent a lot of time with me picking them out. I turned to look at Chuck, "Is she staying in our bedroom?"

Chuck leaned against the door with a hesitant look on his face. "Sandi suffered from convulsions at night and was found after she fell onto the floor. Our bedroom is the closest to the living room, and it would be easier to get to her if anything happened. You can stay inside the study for now. I've already got the bed ready for you there."

It felt like everything I wanted to say was stuck in my throat. I wanted to question everything he did, but found that I could not say a word. It was not that I did not dare to speak out, it was just that I suddenly realized that my status in this home could be changed at any time.

While we were having dinner, Sandi took care of Chuck as she poured him a bowl of soup. When she looked up and saw me, she quickly lowered her head. "I know you were just discharged from the hospital, Nicole, and I shouldn't be imposing on you this way, but Chuck is Calvin's only brother, and I don't have anyone there for me except for him."

Chuck filled my plate with food. "Things aren't easy for Sandi, Nicole. You should focus on taking care of yourself while I handle everything else. I promise you won't feel any change in our lives."

All I did was look down at my dinner plate.

After dinner, I went to the baby's room. I knew something was not right when I pushed the door open. The storage basket with the baby's clothes and hats by the window was gone and replaced with a wooden easel and a few bottles of paint. A card was hanging on the easel with the words 'Emotional healing by painting to relieve stress'.

I stared at the easel from the door, and the words that were stuck in my throat finally found their release. I turned to see Chuck standing in the corridor, and he said, "Sandi's therapist suggested that she relieve stress through painting, and since there aren't any other rooms in the house…"

That was when I stopped him. "This is the baby room."

Chuck was silent for several seconds. "I've packed up all the baby's things, Nicole. I didn't throw them out. Please stay calm. You haven't fully recovered yet. I'll move everything back once Sandi is well enough to go home."

I suddenly lost the strength to argue. All I wanted to know was where the baby things had been stored.

When midnight came, I pushed the doors to the store room open, but I could not find the baby's cot or the bottle sterilizer in there. Even the baby clothes I had folded had disappeared, and the only thing left was a label on the bottom of the cardboard box.

A domestic helper followed me from behind, "Mrs. Gorman, all of those things, they were… Old Mrs. Gorman said leaving those things behind will only bring sadness, and she had them donated to charity under Miss Lemming's name."

I bent over to pick up the label, which had the month and the baby's due date written on it. I stared at it for a long time before folding up the paper and clutching it in my hand.

Even the baby's existence was not allowed in the house and had to be erased.

I closed the door to the storeroom and locked it with a very soft click. Following that click, something in my heart was locked up as well.

On the day of my checkup, Chuck told me he had work to deal with at the office, and he got the driver to take me to the hospital. I waited for my turn, queued in line, got an ultrasound, and waited for my medical report all alone.

The doctor flipped through my report while frowning. "Your recovery after the surgery isn't going well. The blood stasis on the wall of your uterus hasn't cleared completely. You need to take your medication regularly and not overexert yourself. It's important to keep yourself in a good mood too. Where is your family? Why isn't anyone here with you?"

I told the doctor that they were busy, and he stopped asking about them.

When I got home, Chuck was sitting in the living room. He stood up to take the bag from my hand. "What did the doctor say?"

I replied, "I'm still recovering."

He nodded and told me something that made me freeze. "Let's not go public with your miscarriage, Nicole. Sandi's condition isn't stable right now, and reading about news like this would only trigger her trauma again. Please be understanding about this."

I did not even have a chance to take off my coat as I stood at the door. "You want me to keep this a secret?"

Chuck said, "I'm not asking you to keep it a secret. I'm just saying not to go public about this for now. We'll wait until Sandi gets better."

I stared at him for a long time as Chuck looked back at me sincerely while pleading. I knew that look on his face very well. He would give me that look every time he needed me to back off from something.

The next day, my mother-in-law called me on the phone. "Chuck told me everything, Nicole. I know this decision is hard on you, but you're still young and you can still have children in the future. It's different for Sandi. She's already lost Calvin and she can't suffer further agitation. I've made some changes to the invitation for the baby's welcome party and it's now a family dinner to commemorate Calvin's third death anniversary. All of our relatives have been informed about it. You won't mind this, right?"

I sat in the study while clutching the phone. I had organized the baby's welcome party when I was four months pregnant, and Chuck accompanied me throughout the party planning. I had picked the menu and drawn up the guest list, even printing our baby's nickname on the table cards, but it had now been changed into another person's commemorative family dinner. I said, "The baby might be gone, but that doesn't mean it was never here, Mom. I'd like to put up a small tablet as a memory. I promise to put it only at home."

There was silence for a few seconds over the phone. "Sandi is still staying there, Nicole. What if she sees that tablet?"

I sat in the chair for a long time after hanging up. The sky had turned dark, but I did not turn on the lights in the study. I remember how I used to tell Tania that Chuck had to bear the responsibility of this family, and that I was still important to him. However, it turned out that I could not even keep my baby's name inside my house.

On the day of the dinner, I sat at the end of the long table. Everyone who attended was reminiscing about Calvin. Sandi was in the main seat, listening to our relatives comforting her. Some of them patted the back of her hand, some brought more food for her, and others sighed about what a hard life she has as a widow. No one mentioned my miscarriage.

A distant aunt mumbled in a low voice to someone sitting next to her, "Why is Chuck's wife looking so upset? It isn't polite of her to be that way. Doesn't she know to be a bit more understanding of her family's predicament?"

My hand quivered slightly as I clutched a cup in it.

Sandi suddenly seemed to lose her balance as she stabilized herself by holding on to the side of the table. Everyone stood up, and my mother-in-law was the first one to help her up. "What's wrong, Sandi? Are you feeling dizzy again?"

Chuck came over from opposite the table to crouch down next to Sandi as the aunt turned to look at me while raising her voice, "Did someone say something to Sandi? How can Sandi take harsh words when she hasn't been feeling well the last few days?"

I knew that she was looking at me, but I did not stand up. I suddenly realized that no matter what I did, everyone would think that I had something to do with Sandi getting dizzy.

That night, I did not wait for Chuck to go home. I checked my bank account to look through the finances I had spent on the family for the past three years. After that, I checked the payment for the hospital bills on the night of the accident, which I had obtained by asking the hospital to print a copy of the receipt for me.

Chuck had paid for Sandi's admission first that night, which included a full medical checkup and a personal room. He paid for it 47 minutes before my surgery, while my deposit form was signed by Tania.

I placed the receipt into my purse and was reminded of all the excuses I had given on his behalf: Chuck loved his family too much, and that he was in a difficult spot because of his responsibility to this family.

As I stared at the hospital bills he paid, I found myself unable to give him any more excuses. I stood up slowly, feeling the pain in my abdomen, which was nothing compared to the miserable hole in my heart. My mind was suddenly clear as that hole was filled with nothing but emptiness.