Hello, Sir Yoshio.

CHAPTER 28

Yoshio's Point of View

“Ikaw ang unang sumira sa marriage natin. All of sudden you became cold and distant, hindi na kita maabot sa sobrang busy mo sa trabaho!” Sigaw kong pabalik sa asawa ko.

“Now tell me? Kasalanan ko bang magkagusto sa iba? I can't blame myself for loving my stud—” Humarap sa akin ang asawa ko mula sa pagkakatalikod at isang malakas na sampal ang inabot ko kay Yome.

“So, mahal mo na ang estudyante mo? Samantalang ilang buwan pa lang kayong magkasama at mag kakilala sa classroom? Seryoso ka ba sa mga sinasabi mo?” Yome's voice cracked with fury, her hands shaking as she pointed a finger at me.

My face pale and defiant, stared back at my wife, “I don't deny it,” I said. My voice is unwavering. “I love Nalu. I can't help it.”

“Love? You call that love? You're a teacher, Yoshio! Estudyante mo siya and you've been married to me for three decades already!” Yome's voice rose, laced with betrayal and disgust.

“It's not my fault I fell in love with her, Yome,” I countered, my eyes holding a strange mixture of remorse and defiance. “Nalu's brilliant, passionate, and she makes me feel alive. It's something I've never felt with you.”

Yome's anger reached its peak. She lunged at me, her hand connecting with my cheek with a sickening thud. The force of the slap sent me reeling backward, my face contorted in pain.

As I struggled to regain my balance, Yome gasped, her hand clutching at her stomach. A crimson stain bloomed on her white trousers, spreading like a dark flower.

“Yome?” I rushed to her side, my anger forgotten in the face of her sudden distress. “What's wrong?”

Yome, her eyes wide with shock, pointed to the growing stain. “I...I think I'm…”

Her voice trailed off, replaced by a silent scream of disbelief and fear.

“Yome, it's okay,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I'll bring you to the hospital.”

I scooped her into my arms and rushed out of the house, my heart filled with a strange mix of guilt and hope.

As the wheels of my car rolled along the road, my mind was consumed by a maelstrom of emotions. And yet here we are, hurtling toward the hospital in a desperate attempt to save a life that had not yet seen the light of day.

As we pulled up to the emergency entrance, a team of nurses and doctors swiftly ushered Yome inside, their faces etched with a mixture of concern and urgency. A torrent of blood gushed forth from her body, and I watched in horror as her life seemed to ebb away before my very eyes.

The blood, a crimson stain on the white sheets, a horrifying testament to the loss we were about to face, pulsed in my mind. Then, the doctor emerged, his face etched with a familiar, yet devastating sympathy. The words he spoke were a slow, agonizing echo of the silence that had already filled the room.

“The baby,” he said, his voice a hollow whisper, “the baby is gone. I'm sorry I didn't save your baby Mr. Keitaro.”