Made Me Carry Their Child Without My Knowledge, I Retaliated

Sabrina's POV

Phyll’s face also darkened as he glared at me.

“Sabrina, everyone came here out of kindness to see you and the baby. You didn’t even bother to make a meal, and now you’re kicking them out? Are you trying to embarrass me? Barbara would never act like this. That’s why she’ll always be a real friend to me…”

The word "friend" snapped something inside me.

Without thinking, I grabbed a glass of water and hurled it at his feet, shouting, “Get out! Both of you!”

It was the first time I’d ever raised my voice like that, so the room instantly went silent.

Barbara, however, only rolled her eyes before smiling sweetly and clinging to Phyll’s arm.

“Forget it. If Sabrina doesn’t want to cook, then she doesn’t have to. Let’s just eat out.”

She tilted her head at me, still pretending innocence, and added, “Honestly, Sabrina, Phyll and I are just like ironclad friends. We’ve been bathing together and scrubbing each other’s backs since we were kids. It has become a habit for us. Nothing else. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been the one to give him a child.”

Then she tugged on Phyll’s sleeve. “Come on, let’s go. Give her time to cool down. I heard women get all loose after childbirth, and when their emotions run high, they might even wet themselves. Don’t make her any angrier.”

She smirked and added loudly enough for everyone to hear, “If she ends up peeing her pants again, how can I even get to eat? I don’t wanna starve tonight!”

The room erupted in laughter as everyone crowded around Phyll and Barbara, ushering them out the door.

I must’ve been more upset than I realized, because not long after, a sharp pain stabbed my chest and a fever swept over me.

Soon, my phone rang, and it was Phyll. His tone was softer now, maybe because he remembered I hadn’t eaten yet.

“Babe, what do you feel like eating? I’ll bring something back for you later.”

I gritted my teeth against the pain and answered weakly, “I think I’ve got mastitis. Could you take me to the hospital? Or at least come home to watch the baby so I can go myself—”

But before I could finish, his temper snapped.

“Sabrina, will you quit it already? Barbara lost her appetite thanks to you. I had to feed her myself just so she’d eat a few bites. And now you’re faking sick just to trick me into coming home?”

His voice even grew colder as he added, “You, married women, are all the same—paranoid and suspicious. What, just because I’ve got a wife, I’m supposed to give up my friends? If Barbara and I really wanted something more, do you think you’d even matter? You’re ridiculous.”

And with that, he hung up on me.

I let out a bitter laugh and was about to call an ambulance when my phone rang again. This time, it was my brother, sounding cheerful.

“Sabrina, guess what? I’ll be back in the country tomorrow. Surprise! How are things with you and Phyll?”

I caught a glimpse of my pale reflection in the window. Before everything went black, I whispered, “Scott… I want a divorce.”

When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital.

An IV was hooked into my arm, and my son was sleeping quietly beside me.

Phyll rushed in with a smile, acting as if nothing had happened.

“Babe, you’re awake! The neighbors told me you were taken away in an ambulance this morning. I nearly panicked to death! I bought your favorite crab rangoon. Hurry, eat them while they’re hot. See? Your husband’s always looking out for you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

When I was brought here last night, I’d already been burning up with dehydration. If my brother hadn’t noticed something wrong in my voice and called the ambulance for me, I didn’t even know what would’ve happened.

The hospital had called Phyll over and over again throughout the night, but he never picked up.

Meanwhile, Barbara had been busy updating her social media with photos of Phyll feeding her dinner, the two of them drinking from the same glass, and even dancing closely like lovers.

I lifted my head and said flatly, “Phyll, haven’t I told you more than once I’m allergic to crab?”

He froze, caught off guard, then fumbled for an excuse.

“Babe, I didn’t mean to. I just—”

“You just forgot,” I cut him off. My voice was calm, but sharp. “Because it’s not important to you. Right?”