You Called Me Vulgar While I Was Vomiting Your Child Chapter 02
I suddenly remembered the day I saw the positive pregnancy test.
Julian had stared at that lab report for a long time.
A man who was always so composed actually got red around the eyes.
He crouched down, kissed my belly, and his voice was trembling.
“Claire, quit your job at the firm.”
“Running back and forth every day dealing with clients—I hate it. I don’t feel safe.”
“Just stay home and focus on the pregnancy from now on. I can take care of you and the baby.”
I hated to give up a career I’d spent six years building.
But he told me a baby only comes once, and I could always find another job.
He promised he wouldn’t let me suffer a single day.
I believed him.
Yet less than two months after I quit, I had turned into someone who supposedly stayed in bed all day and refused to cook a single meal.
A boring, washed-up housewife.
I wiped away the tears streaming down my face.
I had to ask myself, Claire, was any of this worth it?
Half an hour later, I heard laughter from the hallway.
Julian dragged three suitcases inside for Vivian, her windbreaker slung over his arm.
Vivian took one look at the table spread and gasped dramatically.
“Claire, I hereby crown you a master chef!”
“I’ve been eating bland western food out there until I wanted to puke.”
Julian put her bags down and laughed.
“I knew you’d be craving real food.”
“Claire doesn’t have much career drive anyway, so she’s got plenty of time to cook and clean. She can’t hold a candle to you.”
They both laughed.
I stood frozen in place, my fingers curling into tight fists.
“You’re the one who told me to quit my job.”
The laughter in the living room died instantly.
Julian frowned at me.
“So what? What are you trying to say? I told you to quit, sure, but I didn’t tell you to turn lazy.”
“Look at the state you’re in. Could you even handle working right now?”
True, this pregnancy had brought a level of misery I never imagined.
I couldn’t guarantee I would’ve survived my old job either.
Vivian quickly reached out and grabbed my hand.
“Claire, Julian’s just looking out for you.”
“Besides, a woman doesn’t need a career. Managing a household like this is already impressive.”
Her tone sounded genuine.
Yet it felt far worse than a direct insult.
Vivian could win international awards, travel the globe, surf, and go skydiving.
While I quit my job, got pregnant, fought off constant morning sickness, and cooked a feast.
The highest praise I could get was being called a good cook who kept a tidy house.
Over dinner, Vivian pulled out her tablet to show Julian her latest project proposal.
The two of them chatted seamlessly from overseas markets to venture capital funding.
I had watched this exact scene play out for seven years.
Back in college, they were the shining star duo of the campus.
They won startup competitions together and made the cover of business magazines.
While I was just a regular corporate employee.
When they stayed up all night tweaking projects, I brought them food.
When they stood on stage taking interviews, I sat in the audience holding their phones and coats.
I used to think that as long as Julian took my hand and walked me home in the end,
it didn’t matter if I stood by his side professionally.
It wasn’t until this exact moment that I realized.
Marriage gave me the title of a wife, but it never let me step foot into his world.
When Vivian brought up the funding strategy, I couldn’t help chiming in:
“The regulations in this sector seem to be shifting lately. Banks have really tightened up on approvals.”
Julian didn’t even look up.
“You’ve been out of the loop for two months. Your info is totally outdated.”
