Chapter 2 - The Silent Ward
By 3:00 a.m., I was in a warm, clean bed at St. Jude’s Maternity Ward. Leo was sleeping peacefully in the bassinet beside me, a healthy, six-pound, eight-ounce boy with a shock of dark hair.
The physical pain was gone, replaced by a hollow, calculating stillness.
My phone sat on the bedside table. At 4:15 a.m., it began to vibrate.
Andrew Calling.
I looked at the screen. The name "Andrew" looked like a foreign word. I didn't feel anger. I didn't feel sadness. I felt absolutely nothing. I watched the screen light up, the vibration buzzing against the wood, until it went silent.
Three minutes later, it buzzed again. Then a text: “Rachel, why aren't you answering? I called the house. Where are you?”
Then another call. I let it ring. I watched the bar of light slide across the screen, over and over, until the phone finally died from a depleted battery. I didn't plug it in. I lay back and watched my son breathe.
At 8:00 a.m., the heavy wooden door of my private room pushed open.
Andrew walked in. He looked disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, wearing his fleece hiking jacket. Behind him stood Evelyn, her designer handbag clutched tightly against her chest, her eyes scanning the room with immediate defensiveness.
"Rachel!" Andrew rushed forward, his face a mix of relief and anger. "My God, what is wrong with you? We’ve been driving back for three hours! Why didn't you answer your phone? Do you have any idea how worried we were?"
I didn't blink. I didn't move. I just stared at him.
"Where's the baby?" Evelyn chimed in, her voice sharp. She spotted the bassinet and walked over, peering in. "Oh, look at him. He looks just like Andrew did. Well, Rachel, you certainly made a dramatic entrance of it, didn't you? Giving birth in a car? The police called Andrew’s father because your car was still parked at the pharmacy. It’s all over the local scanner group on Facebook. It's incredibly embarrassing."
"Embarrassing," I repeated. My voice was quiet, raspy, and completely devoid of emotion.
"Yes, embarrassing!" Andrew snapped, though he looked uncomfortable under my dead-eyed gaze. "You could have just called an Uber, Rachel. You didn't have to park in a dark lot and wait for the police. It makes it look like I abandoned you."
"You did abandon me," I said.
"I did not!" Andrew yelled, then quickly lowered his voice as Leo stirred. "I told you it was a false alarm. How was I supposed to know it was real? You're always complaining about aches and pains. And my mother had this trip planned for six months!"
"Your wife was in labor, Andrew," a firm voice spoke from the doorway.
We all turned. Dr. Sarah Vance, my OB-GYN and a woman who had known me for five years, stood there with her clipboard. Her expression was made of pure granite.
"Dr. Vance, please," Evelyn said, stepping forward with a fake, sweet smile. "This is a family matter. Rachel is just hormonal and tired—"
"Actually, Mrs. Monroe, it is a medical matter," Dr. Vance cut her off, her voice icy. "Rachel arrived here via ambulance after delivering her own child in the back seat of a sedan in thirty-degree weather. She suffered a second-degree tear that she had to endure without anesthesia while waiting for paramedics. It is a miracle both she and the baby did not go into shock or develop a fatal infection."
Andrew went pale. "A tear? But... she's okay now, right?"
"She is," Dr. Vance said, walking over to my bed and checking my vitals. She looked me dead in the eye. "And she is fully capable of making her own decisions. Rachel, do you want these people in your room?"
I looked at Andrew. I looked at Evelyn, who was glaring at me, silently warning me not to ruin her family's reputation.
"No," I said clearly. "I want them out."
"Rachel, don't be ridiculous!" Andrew stepped closer. "I'm your husband!"
"Not for long," I whispered.
Dr. Vance didn't hesitate. She pressed the call button on the wall. "Security to Room 312, please. We have unauthorized visitors refusing to leave."
"You wouldn't dare," Evelyn hissed.
May you like
"Try me, Evelyn," I said. It was the first time I hadn't called her 'Mrs. Monroe.'
Within two minutes, two large security guards escorted a red-faced Andrew and a furious, whispering Evelyn out of the ward. As the door swung shut, I felt a weight lift off my chest. But I knew this was only the beginning of the war.
