Too Late to Marry in HasteChapter 2

When I arrived, Ben, Vincent’s best friend, immediately started berating me for taking so long.

“You were here, weren’t you?” I replied coolly.

“I’m not a doctor! What was I supposed to do?”

“You’re his wife,” Ben said, his voice laced with disappointment. “How can you be so careless? If I’d known…”

He stopped himself.

I let out a cold laugh and finished his sentence for him. “If you’d known, you would have told him not to come back to me, so he’d still have someone who actually cared about him.”

I had heard that line from Ben more times than I could count. He was the one who had convinced Vincent to break it off with Layla and recommit to our marriage. Now, he was the one constantly complaining that I wasn't taking good enough care of him. His initial relief had soured into a running commentary on my failings as a wife.

But I no longer cared what Vincent’s friends thought. Let them say what they wanted.

Vincent probably felt the same way, which was why he never stopped Ben, just watched me with a complicated expression. He wanted me to know what he had sacrificed for me. Everyone knew Layla was the one he truly loved. I was just the villain who had stood in their way, ungrateful for what I had.

“Get out, Ben. This is between me and your sister-in-law,” Vincent mumbled, his eyes fluttering open. He called me that, even though Ben’s wife was my friend, not his.

Ben looked like he wanted to argue, but Vincent’s next words froze him in place.

“Layla, I regret it. Don’t leave me. Don’t marry him.”

He grabbed my sleeve, his grip surprisingly strong. “I can’t do it. I can’t watch you have children with another man…”

It was the first time I had ever seen him cry like this. His sobs were choked and broken, like the sound of a snapped string on an old cello. He mistook me for her.

When they were together, everyone had called Layla “the missus.” They’d stopped after he came back, probably to avoid hurting my feelings.

Ben looked at me with pity. “Are you happy now? You used your dead child to tie him to you, and now neither of you is happy. Is this the life you wanted?”

I smiled politely. “Yes. This is exactly what I wanted. Seeing them both miserable makes me very happy.”

“You should have died on that hospital bed with your baby!”

Ben stormed out, leaving me alone with Vincent.

He was still clutching my sleeve. I sat down on the edge of his bed and slapped him hard across the face.

“Are you awake now?”

They all wanted me dead. But I was determined to live well—better than any of them.

His cheek was already turning red. “Sophie? Why am I in the hospital?”

“Layla’s getting married. You were upset, so you and Ben went drinking. You ended up with a bleeding ulcer.”

I took out my phone and played a recording of his drunken rambling, including Ben’s tirade. “You still can’t forget her,” I stated.

The color drained from his face. “Why don’t you care about my health anymore? When I was sick before, you carried me to the hospital yourself in a storm. Your heels were bleeding.”

I was surprised that was the first thing he thought of. It was a long time ago, before Layla.

“That just proves how stupid I was back then. I should have just waited for a taxi, like today. Why suffer so much?”

He looked down, ashamed. “I’m really over her. Tonight, I was just… thinking about the past. I didn’t know Ben was saying those things behind my back. I won’t see him anymore.”

I cut him off. “Sign this.” I handed him the purchase agreement for the penthouse. “You’ve already failed me emotionally. The least you can do is not fail me financially.”

He took the pen and paper, a familiar routine. But his hand paused before he signed, the pressure of the pen nearly tearing the page. “Is this all we have left to talk about?”

Ever since he had come back, I had moved my things into the guest room. His study was filled with gifts from Layla, and I never said a word. We were like strangers living under the same roof. The only time I showed him any warmth was when I needed him to spend money.

“Why won't you forgive me, after everything I’ve done? What more do I have to do to make you like you were before?”

I nodded. “If you heard that I had drunk myself into the hospital on our anniversary because my ex-lover was getting married, and you could remain as calm as I am right now, then I would forgive you.”

“…I’m sorry.”

I looked at the signature on the contract, satisfied. I couldn’t bring myself to say, “It’s okay.”

He pressed his advantage, placing his hand over mine, his eyes pleading. “Let’s have a baby.”

“Ben’s wife is already on their second.”

A cynical smile touched my lips. Of all the times to bring this up. It was because Layla was about to start a family with someone else. That’s why he wanted a child now.

I pulled my hand away. “No.”

“I’m not as heartless as you. You may not remember, but I will never forget our child. No other baby could ever replace him.” And I would never have another child with him.

“If you really want a child…”

“No,” he said, pulling me into a desperate hug, as if afraid I would disappear. “We don’t need one. Just the two of us is fine. We’ll be together forever.”