Husband Delayed Birth for Adopted Son’s Birthday

Adrian had deliberately kept it from me, so I had no idea he was going to the parent-teacher meeting.

I still remembered how excited he had been when he pressed his hand to my belly to feel the baby move, but in his heart, he had already decided I was lying and competing with a child out of jealousy!

“Mrs. Shaw! Mrs. Shaw! Wake up!”

A pair of large hands shook me violently. My mind felt like a messy, boiling stew—chaotic and foggy—as I struggled to slowly open my eyes.

In front of me was Mrs. Zane. She let out a sigh of relief and patted her chest when she saw me open my eyes.

“Thank goodness you’re alive.”

Then, she complained, “You scared me half to death, Mrs. Shaw.”

I lowered my gaze to my belly, and a shocking red greeted my eyes.

Mrs. Zane’s expression shifted as she followed my gaze. She covered her nose and wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Mrs. Shaw, how did you knock over the painter’s bucket by the door? Such a strong smell… It's only because you don't clean the house yourself that you're so reckless.”

I glanced at the corner and saw a tipped-over red paint bucket on the floor. I must have accidentally knocked it over.

The basement was dark, and Mrs. Zane was blocking the light from the door. Her eyes widened as realization dawned, and she said, “Mr. Shaw was right all along! You deliberately tipped over the paint bucket to make it look like you were hurt, hoping I’d call him back!

“Luckily, he didn’t fall for it! Otherwise, you would have ruined Evan’s whole family birthday celebration!”

I glared at her. Pain gripped me so fiercely I could barely speak.

Mrs. Zane flinched at my look, then hurried off to fetch a mop to clean up, forgetting to close the basement door.

The stairs leading out were twisted and turned, but I had no time to think. If I did not save myself, I would die here.

I took a few deep breaths, hugged my belly, and shakily pressed my hands against the wall for support. Step by step, I made my way toward the exit.

I never realized there were so many steps to the stairs. Each contraction stabbed at me like a knife twisting inside my belly.

Adrian took my phone, so I could only leave the villa and seek help outside. By the time I reached the main road, my strength was gone, and I collapsed onto the ground, exhausted and disheveled.

People out walking after dinner quickly surrounded me. Some screamed in panic and immediately called emergency services.

Adrian’s business partner recognized me and gasped in surprise.

“Mrs. Shaw! How can a pregnant woman be like this? Was your house robbed?

“I’ll call Mr. Shaw right now!”

…

“Mr. Clarke?”

Adrian looked puzzled when he received the call.

Mr. Clarke immediately replied, “Mr. Shaw, intruders have broken into your home! Your wife is lying at the door, covered in blood! We’ve already called an ambulance. You need to get to the First Hospital immediately!”

Adrian listened to the commotion around him. His brows knitted tightly as he instinctively rose to his feet.

A slender hand grasped his wrist, hesitantly raising the phone. “Adrian, look at what Mrs. Zane said.”

Adrian saw the chat on the screen. His pupils constricted, and his expression darkened. His voice turned sharp.

“Mr. Clarke, you’re mistaken. There were no intruders. My wife got angry and spilled some red paint on herself. Please cancel the ambulance. I’ve already called our family doctor. He’ll be there shortly.”