Dave's words hit like a bullet through Samantha's chest. She stared at the door, not moving. Not knowing what to feel. Not knowing what to think.
"Are you there?" his voice came again from the other side.
She didn't answer.
She kept staring at the door like it was a scene from a horror movie.
"Don't hurt yourself in there," he added casually. "I won't be able to explain that to the cops."
A short, broken laugh escaped her lips.
How could he say things like that? The same man who had gone on his knees for her…
The same man who had dragged Claire on her knees just to avoid a misunderstanding between them…
Now he spoke to her like she meant nothing.
Her phone rang. The sound made her flinch.
She pulled it out with trembling hands. An unknown number.
"Hello?" her voice came out weak.
"Hello, Mrs. Rice. This is the hospital. We're calling to remind you that your appointment is tomorrow."
"My… appointment?" she frowned.
"Yes, ma'am. 2 PM. Have a nice day."
The call ended.
Samantha stared at the phone.
Then at the door.
Her head throbbed.
Her vision blurred.
This was wrong. Very wrong.
She staggered to her feet and opened the door.
"You finally opened the door," he said, leaning against the wall with a faint smirk.
"I think…" her voice shook. "Something is wrong with me."
Then she fell, fainting in front of him.
She took a step toward him—and everything went black.
[|]
Voices. Distant. Blurred.
"What do you mean you don't know your wife's name?"
"That's not my problem. Your job is to take care of her. Do it"
Samantha's eyes fluttered open.
White ceiling.
Machines.
The faint beeping of a monitor.
"You are awake!" The nurse said quickly, stepping forward.
"What... happened?" Samantha whispered.
"You fainted," the nurse replied. "You shouldn't be stressing yourself. Especially not in your condition."
"My baby—what happened to my baby?!" Samantha shot up.
"Babies," Dave corrected calmly from the side.
He stepped closer. "You are having triplets."
"Your babies are fine," the nurse said gently.
Samantha blinked.
Once.
Twice.
"...What?"
"That was my reaction too," he said with a tight smile. "When the doctor told me."
The nurse glanced between them, confused.
"Don't you…want the babies?" The nurse asked cautiously.
Dave stepped forward, placing himself between them.
His presence filled the room instantly.
"Please, leave if you are done," he said coldly. "You are stressing my wife."
The nurse took one look at Dave and walked out of the VIP room.
The door shut.
Silence.
"So," Dave said, turning back to her. "Apparently, we're having triplets."
"Triplets…" she repeated softly, like the word was foreign to her.
Her hand moved slowly to her stomach. She touched it. Gently. Carefully. Protectively.
Her lips trembled.
"I am guessing you want to keep them," Dave said.
Her head snapped up. "They are mine."
"Half my DNA. " He corrected flatly.
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
"This complicates things," he said simply. "This makes the divorce harder."
He paced around in a circle for a second. Then stop.
"How much?" he asked.
Samantha blinked.
"I'll pay you," he continued. "Whatever you want. Just abort."
Her breath hitched.
"How… could you?" she whispered. "You wanted these babies more than me!"
"That wasn't me."
"I'm not getting rid of them!"
"You don't understand," he said, his voice lowering slightly.
He walked over to her side, picked up her hand, and held it with both his hands gently.
He stepped closer. Took her hand. Held it gently between both of his hands.
"The doctor said the pregnancy is high-risk. You could die."
She yanked her hand away.
"You just don't want them!" she cried.
"I wish that were true."
The door burst open.
"Dave, darling!"
Claire walked in like she owned the room.
Samantha's entire body went rigid.
"What are you doing here?!" Samantha snapped.
Claire ignored her completely.
She walked straight to Dave, slipping her hand around his arm.
"Of course, he called me," she said sweetly. "He needed help. Something only I can give him."
Samantha turned slowly to Dave.
"You called her?"
"She's my friend," he said dismissively.
"No. She's your ex."
The monitor began to beep faster.
"Samantha, calm down!" Dave snapped, stepping away from Claire. "The doctor said you can't be stressed."
"I want her out," Samantha said, her voice shaking. "Now."
"How did I deal with you for months?" Dave shot back. "Can't you follow simple instructions?"
"Stop shouting at her!"
The room went still.
Ian stood at the door. He looked like he had run all the way.
His eyes locked on Dave.
Dark. Furious.
He strode in, shoved Dave aside, and moved straight to Samantha.
"What happened?" he asked, taking her hand gently. "Why are you in a hospital? You were fine the last time I left you at the hotel."
Dave's gaze dropped to their joined hands.
Something dark flickered in his eyes.
"You were at a hotel together?" he asked slowly.
Ian released Samantha's hand. Then turned.
Step by step.
Until he stood right in front of Dave.
"What are you trying to imply?" he asked, his voice tight.
Dave smirked.
"What right do you have to question me?"
"You implied something inappropriate was going on between Samantha and me," he said coldly. "I want you to take it back."
"You're protecting her?" Dave tilted his head. "From me?"
"No." Ian leaned closer. "I'm going to take her from you," he whispered. "You don't deserve her."
Dave's fist flew. His right hook connected hard. Ian hit the ground.
"How dare you!" Dave roared.
"Leave him alone!" Samantha shouted, scrambling off the bed.
She rushed to Ian's side. "Are you okay?" she asked, panicked.
"I'm fine," Ian muttered, wiping blood from his lip.
Samantha reaches for a tissue—
In a swift moment, Dave grabbed her.
Pulled her back.
"And what do you think you're doing?" he demanded, towering over her. "Didn't I tell you not to stress yourself?"
His grip tightened.
His entire body trembling.
"Are you cheating on me… right in front of me?"