I cried out, "We can divorce. Isn't that what you want? I swear I'll leave you and Joanne alone and I'll stay far away after we split. You'll never see me again! You can do whatever you want. I promise to stay away from you after the divorce and never appear in front of you again."
"Gerald, please … let's just get divorced ..." my pleaded is in vain.
The scalpel suddenly halted, hovering above my skin. Gerald frowned, a shadow of hesitation flashing across his face.
Joanne coughed lightly, her red-rimmed eyes turning toward me, "Eleanor, please don't quarrel with Gerald because of me. I'll book my flight and leave the country right away." She turned as if to leave, but Gerald stopped her.
Facing me again, any trace of doubt vanished from his expression, "Eleanor, this will only take ten minutes. If you're afraid of the blood, just close your eyes."
The harsh surgical lights cast deep shadows on Gerald's face, making him look more like a cold, unfeeling machine. Under Joanne's influence, he held the scalpel and methodically cut into my belly.
Warm liquid splattered onto my arms. To my surprise, I didn't feel any pain.
I didn't know how much time had passed before the operating room door was violently flung open.
The sharp crack of a slap echoed in the room, followed by the furious voice of the hospital director, "Gerald! What are you doing?"
With a loud clang, the scalpel fell to the floor. All the strength seemed to drain from Gerald's body as he slumped weakly against the operating table.
Staring in a daze at my opened abdomen, he stammered, "Director ... E-Eleanor's stomach ... how is there a child inside?"
