My Husband Doesn't Allow Me to Eat Christmas Turkey

"Alison, if you hadn't caused trouble tonight, Daisy would have been safe at home instead of getting hit by a car on Christmas!"

His shameless words made me laugh in disbelief.

"I caused trouble? Didn't you hear her attacking me personally? Stephen, I'm carrying your child. When she insults me, it's an insult to you too. Are you really that dense?"

For the first time in five years, I yelled at him.

Stephen's eyes burned with rage.

Before he could speak, Daisy, still lying in bed, began to cry.

"I'm sorry. It's all my fault. I just wanted to surprise the kids. I thought a little joke would help them bond with you, Alison. I never meant to make you upset. Please don't fight because of me. It's all my fault. I'll quit my job and leave as soon as I'm better. I won't show my face in front of you ever again."

Stephen gritted his teeth, trying to control his fury.

"I'll say this one last time, Alison: Apologize. Stop holding grudges against Daisy. I've told you so many times already."

I stared at him, our gazes locked for what felt like an eternity. Without saying a word, I turned and left the room.

As soon as I stepped outside, his voice rang out behind me. "Go ahead and leave, but don't you dare come back! Alison, sooner or later, you'll come crawling back to me, pregnant and begging!"

Tears slid down my face, and I quickened my pace, the onlookers' curious eyes following me.

Outside, the snowstorm raged again. With my heavy, eight-month-pregnant body, I made my way out of the hospital.

The hospital was in a remote area, and after waiting for what felt like forever, I couldn't catch a cab.

I wondered if the baby could sense my struggle, as it finally calmed down and stopped squirming.

On Christmas night, while others were celebrating with their families, I, alone, trudged three miles to the nearest hotel.

By the time I checked in, it was already 4:00 AM. My clothes were covered in frost from the snow and wind. The hotel clerk was shocked when they saw me, immediately draping a warm coat over my shoulders.

While paying, a notification popped up on my phone.

I glanced at it—it was a post from Daisy.

In the live photo, Stephen was serving her a steaming mug of ginger tea, gently pressing on her swollen ankle.

The caption read, [Sweet words can't compare to actions in the early morning. On Christmas night, someone who truly cares for you will never say they're tired. Thanks for your kindness, boss.]

The post had already gained quite a few likes.

All of them were from Stephen's friends who came over for Christmas.

They had always looked down on me, but they treated Daisy with extra care.

It wasn't hard to imagine what Stephen had said about me behind closed doors, painting me as the one who'd always been overly generous, always trying too hard.

Just as I was about to turn off my phone, a few comments popped up.

[Wow, I've known him for ten years and never got to drink this tea?! Not cool!]

[If I remember correctly, didn't someone once say they'd never do anything for a woman? Now look what he's doing! Looks like Daisy's got some serious influence!]

Each comment felt like a blow to my dignity and pride as his wife.

Of course, I was the cheap one. After five years of marriage, three kids, buying cars and houses for him, and even investing three million dollars into his career, I still had no formal wedding, and here I was, pregnant with our fourth child.

No wonder he didn't appreciate me.

I gave a bitter smile, turned off my phone, and collapsed onto the bed.

I used to be terrified of him asking me to pick him up from the hotel after a night of socializing. I'd never dare silence my phone back then.

Now, I set it to "Do Not Disturb".

I slept until noon the next day. When I finally woke up, I saw his countless messages.

[You didn't come home? Where are you? Send me your location.

[Alison, can't you see my texts? Stop playing dumb. Don't push it!

[Daisy isn't mad at you anymore about what happened yesterday. She wants to take you and the kids to see the new Christmas movie. It's a chance to clear the air. You'd better not throw tantrums like this again in the future.]

His tone made it seem like offering me a chance to explain was the greatest favor he could do.

I rubbed my tired temples, thinking that clearing things up with him would be a good idea, since it was bound to happen sooner or later. So, I sent him the hotel location.

When the car pulled up outside, the window on the passenger side rolled down. Stephen took me in with a disapproving look, his eyebrows furrowing.

"You're going to the movies in a bathrobe? You don't even look like a boss's wife. Are you trying to embarrass me? Daisy defended you all night. Are you really going to pick a fight again?"