You Called Me Vulgar While I Was Vomiting Your Child Chapter 01
Julian always called me shallow. He said my world began and ended with cooking dinner and throwing up over the toilet.
Every single day, he would press his hand against my belly and whisper to our unborn child, “Baby, when you grow up, you need to be just like your Aunt Vivian. Smart, brave, fearless on the ski slopes, and bold enough to explore the world all by herself.”
My smile froze. I couldn’t help asking, “If Vivian and I both fell into the ocean, who would you save?”
Julian paused, then let out a scoff.
“Claire, you are so cliché. Vivian would never ask me something like that. Nature doesn’t breed a narrow, petty love in people like her.”
“She’s nothing like you. She’s a bird meant for the open sky.”
Right on cue, a photo popped up in our three-person group chat.
Vivian had just wrapped up her trip to Patagonia, laughing wildly against the wind right in front of a massive glacier.
Julian grabbed his phone instantly and typed back:
[Gorgeous! Live free for me too!]
When the screen flickered black, my own reflection stared back at me.
Pale skin, swollen feet spilling out of a stretched-out dress, and stretch marks wrapping around my waist.
I had quit my job in corporate finance and cut off all my friends for this family, leaving my entire world reduced to prenatal care and nursery shopping.
Yet Julian had only ever admired someone as dazzling and untethered as Vivian Hayes.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t ask him again.
I just looked down, pressed a hand to my lower stomach, and suddenly understood.
This pathetic excuse of a marriage with Julian Vance had run its course.
…
Julian finally noticed my silence after putting his phone away.
He set the device down and pressed his palm back onto my belly.
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Claire. It’s so cliché.”
I fired back, “Then what isn’t cliché to you?”
He blinked, struggling as if digging deep for any of my good qualities.
“Look, you’re steady, you keep the house running, and that’s enough. I don’t expect you to understand much else.”
He said it with complete entitlement, but every word felt like a sharp needle piercing my chest.
My phone buzzed again.
Vivian texted the group chat to say she cut her trip short and was flying home tonight.
Julian immediately replied:
[Come over for dinner. Let’s welcome you back.]
Only after hitting send did he grant me a charitable glance.
“Vivian’s been out in Patagonia for over a month. She must be sick of takeout.”
“Cook a few of her favorite dishes tonight, and make a pot of beef stew. You’re good at that.”
My stomach churned violently.
Ever since the pregnancy started, the smell of cooking oil made me gag. I had been throwing up for a straight month, and carrying this child had been absolute hell.
“Can we go out instead?”
“I’m not feeling well today.”
The smile on Julian’s face faded slightly.
“She spent over twenty hours straight on a flight and didn’t complain once.”
“You’re only three months pregnant. Why are you dizzy and puking every single day?”
“The OB-GYN said pregnant women shouldn’t just lie around. Doing light housework is good for you.”
With that, he looked back down to keep chatting with Vivian.
That afternoon, I dragged myself to the kitchen through waves of nausea.
The moment I tossed the meat into the pan, the heavy smoke hit my face, and I slapped a hand over my mouth, bolting straight for the bathroom.
My stomach was completely empty.
I knelt by the toilet, dry-heaving until tears streamed down my face.
Julian walked past the doorway, pausing for barely a few seconds.
“I just hope the kid doesn’t turn out as sickly as you.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but his phone rang.
Vivian had arrived downstairs.
Julian turned around instantly.
“Go rinse your mouth out. You look like a total mess. I’m heading down to get her.”
The door clicked shut, leaving me kneeling alone on the freezing tile.
