She panted and coughed, "Kyle... I will not take this medicine! This child, no matter what, I want to give birth to it..."
He looked at her sternly, then suddenly smiled softly, as if he was looking at a willful child, "I will make you take this medicine, Mabel. Maybe you feel reluctant now, but if you really give birth to it, will we be happy? I've never longed for this child. How much love do you think I can give it? If we can't love this child, isn't it better not to let it come into the world now?"
"No, you will love this child!" she said.
"I won't. I won't give this child any love," he said coldly. To him, it was as if the child was already a dead object.
Kyle took another glass, poured a cup of warm water again, planning to have her take the medicine once more.
