“You’ll suffer naturally because you’re toxic,” my doctor husband sneered, blocking the nurses from performing a C-section for my giant 10-pound baby as revenge for his intern. I writhed in pain, clutching the bed rails until my knuckles turned white. When the grueling delivery finally ended, the heavy delivery room doors banged open. My husband staggered in, his face drained of color as he looked at the newborn chart, fell to the floor, and shrieked, “No… that’s impossible! Whose child is-“
His unyielding conviction injected a surge of raw adrenaline into my depleted veins. I reached for the Montblanc pen resting beside the folder and signed the exorbitant contract without bothering to read the fine print.
“Grant me exactly thirty days to incinerate the remnants of my personal life,” I told him, holding his gaze. “Then, I am yours.continue reading …