The Dying Flame of Love

Yvonne was right behind me as she roared, "Then pack your bags and go!"

I was just giving Yvonne a taste of her own medicine. She was so used to my constant doting; there was no way she could handle the frosty shoulder I gave her.

I made a beeline for the exit, but she was hot on my heels furiously. "Just leave, and don't you dare come back!"

I got myself a hotel room, freshened up, and got ready to sleep. Yvonne blew up my phone with call after call, but I ignored them all.

Then, 30 minutes later, a stranger rang.

"Hey, is this Yvonne's husband? She's plastered over here at our bar. Could you come get her?"

"You've got the wrong guy."

However, I thought better of it and added, "Check her contacts for a dude named Wade. He can deal with it."

I hung up, got online, and started the paperwork for a visa to Avrika.

Yvonne tried reaching out a few more times, but eventually, she gave up and went silent.

The hospital had been a madhouse lately, what with us gearing up for the Avrika medical mission.

However, the chaos had been a welcome distraction.

No more sucking up, no more feeling empty.

One of the obstetrician gynecologists, swamped with preparation for Avrika, had not even had a second to grab a bite.

Post-meeting, I got an extra meal for him.

However, as I dropped it off at the obstetrics-gynecology department, I spotted Yvonne, propped up by Wade, looking like she was on her last leg.

I flagged down a nurse. "Hey, what's going on with her?"

The nurse, spotting my white coat, took a quick look at Yvonne and let out a heavy sigh. "She found out she was two months pregnant after a night of drinking and came in for an abortion."

Pregnant?

The timeline matched up with the last time Yvonne and I were together.

A blaze of anger shot through me, and I beelined for Yvonne.

"You were pregnant? Why the heck didn't you tell me?"

She glanced up before swinging, slapping my face.

"Like it's my fault? Your swimmers are to blame for my miscarriage, and you have the gall to ask?"

I locked eyes with her. "Was it an accident, or did you get rid of our baby on purpose?"

"It was no accident. I meant to do it. What's it to you? I'm about to make a partner at the firm, and I won't let a baby mess that up."

Her eyes were like daggers, blaming our own child.

My heart squeezed tight, and I clenched my fist, trying to hold back the storm inside.

I never wanted to trap her with a kid. For eight years, I had gone along with whatever she wanted.

However, this? This made me boil over. I had a right to know.

I jabbed a finger at Yvonne, my voice rising. "I'm that kid's dad! How could you just decide without me? And to bring him along?"

Yvonne just smirked. "What's wrong with Wade being here? Be glad the kid wasn't his. Now get out of my face. You're bugging me."

She shoved me, and that was the last straw.

I tried to step up, to say something, but Wade shoved me back.

Yvonne threw me a look, frosty as ice. "Stand outside our house for a full day and night, then maybe we'll talk."

With that, she walked away with Wade's help.

I hit the wall hard, my breath catching in my chest.

I slid down, crumpled on the floor, gasping. I watched them walk away without a backward glance.

It felt like a giant fist was squeezing my heart, stealing my breath.

When a coworker found me 10 minutes later, I was out cold.

It turned out my old lung injury had flared up something fierce. I needed surgery quickly.

They needed a family member to sign off on it, and Yvonne's phone only picked up after five tries.

However, it was Wade who answered, "Sorry, she can't come to the phone."