Using Up My Love

I lost the baby.

My tears had already run dry when the doctor broke the news to me. My body was already worn out from the last few years I spent working and grinding alongside Vincent. It was only by consuming countless medications that we conceived this child.

But now, it seemed that the child had no intention of coming to this world.

Vincent approached my bedside, his face devoid of the grief that came with losing a child. It was as if the child had nothing to do with him. He patted my hand lightly and said indifferently, "Don't be too sad about this. I'm sure we'll have another child in the future."

I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at his cold and hardened expression.

At that moment, Queenie appeared. Her eyes were red-rimmed as she blamed herself. "It's all my fault. Maeve would still be fine if it weren't for my cat…"

Vincent immediately turned to comfort her gently, "Don't say this. You had nothing to do with this, and the cat's innocent, too. Don't be too hard on yourself."

He spoke in a gentle tone, like he was soothing a frightened child, yet not a single sincere word of comfort came from him, even after we'd just lost our baby.

A nurse came over and reminded us softly, "A miscarriage can take a huge toll on the body. Mrs. Harper, you'll have to stick to a nutritious diet and take things easy for a while. Don't overwork yourself."

Only then did Vincent appear to remember something. He turned to ask Queenie, "You didn't eat much earlier, did you? I'll take you out for a meal."

I lay on the bed, my fingers slightly trembling. In the end, I couldn't help tugging on the hem of Vincent's shirt and saying feebly, "I'm hungry, too."

He frowned and said impatiently, "It's not like you can leave the room. Order takeout for yourself."

Under normal circumstances, I would have gotten into a huge fight with him and demanded that he explain his mistreatment of me. But this time, I simply let go of his shirt and did not argue with him.

He seemed to sense that he'd crossed the line, for when he spoke again, it was in a much gentler tone. "I'll get you some food later."

I made no reply and simply closed my eyes.

Queenie was already urging him, "Come on, Vincent. I'm starving! Let's go already."

Vincent paid me no mind after that and left the hospital room with Queenie.

I dozed off, falling into a deep slumber. When I woke up, the room was still empty. With some effort, I eased myself upright and reached for the stack of love coupons I kept in my coat pocket, which had been hanging beside me.

I couldn't remember when I'd started bringing the coupons everywhere I went, but the stack had only gotten thinner since then. I tore a coupon off the stack and stared at the remaining two, my heart growing cold.

I picked up my phone and called Mom.

"Mom, I want a divorce," I said in a voice so calm that even surprised me.

My pronouncement obviously stunned Mom. "What's wrong? Vincent was so serious about you that even I was moved by his dedication! Why do you suddenly want to divorce him?"

I did not explain in detail and only said softly, "I'm tired."

Mom was silent for a moment, but supported my decision nonetheless. "Very well. I'll help you get the papers ready."

After hanging up, I leaned against the bed, my heart as hollow as an abyss. Just then, Vincent pushed the door open and entered the room. Panic was written all over his face as he demanded, "I just heard you say you wanted a divorce. What was that about?"

I looked up and met his gaze. I calmly and smoothly lied, saying, "My friend's getting a divorce and wanted to talk to me about it."

He heaved a sigh of relief, and a smile curved his lips again. "You scared me for a second there."

As he said this, he handed me the carrier bag he'd been holding. "Here, I got you takeout from your favorite Erilean restaurant."

I took the bag and felt my heart skip a beat. The Erilean restaurant he mentioned was my favorite food joint. I wasn't a fan of spicy food and loved the milder flavors of the food there.

In the past, whenever I wanted food from the restaurant, Vincent would get it for me without hesitation.

I opened the bag, only to find that most of the food inside was heavily spiced—judging by the diced red peppers and the eye-watering smell. They were not from the Erilean restaurant.

I gaped at Vincent in shock. "What's with the food?"

He awkwardly explained, "I got the takeout before taking Queenie for Kalmerian cuisine, but she took a few bites and had such a hard time coping with the spice that I switched her food with yours. You can handle spice, so I'm sure you won't mind having some of it anyway."

I stared at him with disbelief as if I were looking at a stranger.

He must have felt slightly guilty because he added quietly, "I'll just use another coupon. I've got 20 of them left anyway. Don't be mad."

I lowered my head, my fingers clenching the remaining coupons as I felt my heart turn into a frozen lake. No, he had no idea he was left with only one coupon after saying this.

I ordered takeout, which was delivered to the hospital. At that moment, Vincent jogged down the corridor to take a call. I could hear him speaking on the phone in intervals. "She can handle spice really well, so don't worry."

I used to dislike spicy food, but Vincent loved it. I did my best to adjust for his sake, though I never thought he'd believe I could actually handle it well.

"Don't worry. She'll be fine… Yes, I know your stomach's sensitive. We won't be having spicy food from now on…" I heard him say.

My hand shook as I gripped the spoon. In the past, Vincent had specially brought me to sample various spicy cuisines just so I could get used to his palate. Whenever the spice was too much and I turned red from eating it, he'd laugh and hand me a glass of cold water. He'd then reassure me gently, "Take it slow. You'll grow to like the spice one day."

I stopped listening to his phone conversation with Queenie and dejectedly ate my meal. My tears wouldn't stop falling, and my food became saltier with each bite.