Over a week later...
Niko rushed past the hospital's automatic sliding doors, his voice firm and breathless as he belted out his destination to the front desk staff. Dressed in a tailored dark blue suit and a crisp white button-down, he looked like he'd come straight from an important meeting—and he had. But nothing mattered more than this.
Panic clutched at his chest the moment Clarissa called and told him it was time.
He darted into the elevator and slammed the button for the maternity floor. As the numbers climbed, so did his anxiety. Room 303 was located all the way at the end of the hallway—and every step toward it felt like a mile. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he hurried past white walls and beeping monitors, desperation laced into every footfall.
When he finally reached the room, he expected chaos—nurses rushing, doctors shouting, Baylee doubled over in agony. But what he found was the exact opposite.
Baylee sat up calmly in bed, eyes glued to her phone. Clarissa and Sabrina were beside her, also occupied with their screens. The room was quiet—too quiet. It looked more like a waiting lounge than a delivery room.
His brows furrowed in confusion.
"How is everything?" he asked, moving straight to Baylee's side and resting a gentle hand on her head.
"Fine," she replied without looking at him, her focus remaining on her phone. An article titled 'What to Expect as a First-Time Mom' filled the screen.
Clarissa stood up, sensing the shift. "Now that you're here, I'm going to get some coffee."
"I'll come with," Sabrina added quickly, and the two sisters exited, leaving them alone.
Niko slowly sat on the sofa across from her bed, lacing his fingers together and leaning forward. He glanced around the sterile white room, then cleared his throat. "So... what's happening?" He scratched his head, awkward tension building. "Is the baby coming today?"
Baylee finally looked up, annoyance flickering in her expression. "Didn't my sister tell you?"
"Well... yeah. She said it was time. So... is it?"
"Yes. They took me off the medication. She's strong enough now, so we're just waiting."
He nodded slowly, trying to hide his nerves.
"I'm sorry," she said, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. "Did you want to leave?"
His brows knit together. "What? No."
"You just seem..."
He stood and closed the distance between them. "Look," he said, taking her hand and placing it over his pounding chest. "I'm anxious. I'm excited. I'm scared shitless. I've been waiting by the phone for days, Baylee..."
She gently pulled her hand back and cleared her throat.
They hadn't spoken much since their argument. He'd respected her distance, getting updates through Clarissa instead, understanding she needed space. And she had tried—tried to harden her heart, to numb whatever feelings she still had for him.
But the ache remained. No matter how many walls she put up, the hurt still lingered, just as raw as ever. So she focused back on her phone, ignoring the tension radiating between them.
"Can I get you anything?" he asked, softer now.
She shook her head, eyes never leaving the screen.
"Are you in any pain?"
YOU ARE READING
BAD WIFE
عاطفيةExcerpt: Like he was hot or wanted to jump out of his clothes, he takes off his blazer and puts it neatly on the back of his chair. He looses his tie and unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt. "Clarissa." He breaths out and pinches the bridge...
