She Is the Unattainable Dream

"Julian, it hurts so much... It's all your fault for being so rough in the car earlier. I think I'm torn down there!"

Clutching the ultrasound report I had just received, I stood in the corridor, watching my husband hold another woman in his arms.

The woman was wearing sunglasses, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. Instead of being embarrassed, my husband looked utterly heartbroken for her, coaxing her tenderly.

The crowd stirred, whispering and murmuring among themselves. "Wait, who is actually Mrs. Foster?"