The Transient Wife

Epilogue

Two years later...

"Babe!" Philip heard his wife's voice from upstairs. He ignored it, suspecting she'd make excuses for the laundry.

"Babe!"

Oh, oh, her voice was getting louder—and nearer.

He loved his wife like hell, but sometimes she just hit a special nerve especially when he was trying to review reports and busy talking business.

"Philip!"

Being married to Cassandra for more than two years now told him he'd be in trouble if she called him by his name the second time.

"Coming..." he muttered, sighing as he stood up from his chair. For the past months, his patience was a little bit longer because he was trying to understand her condition and he was starting to wonder if he could stretch it just a bit more.

His office door burst open and his wife walked in, glaring at him.

He acted like he never heard her. "Babe, you're glaring at me like a tiger. It's not good for pregnant women to brood."

He saw her squint her eyes at him, "I called you like three times already."

"I didn't hear," he lied. He also learned from her that white lies weren't that bad. Well, sometimes. "Why? What's wrong?"

He noticed that her face was a little different, like she was in pain. "My water just broke," she said, and he knew she was just trying to be calm, and she was doing a good job at it. He, on the other hand, couldn't. He jumped and ran toward her, his hands held out as if she'd fall over any time soon.

It seemed that all those days of training on how to help your wife undergo labor suddenly flew out the window. "What do we do? I thought you're not due until next week!" He looked down at the big bulge in front of his wife. Their child was in there and was about ready to come out.

"Oh, okay, so you want to wait until next week? Let's reschedule, shall we?" she asked sarcastically, breathing through her teeth. "You better get me to the hospital now or I swear I'm gonna kill you."

He panicked and almost ran to the door when he remembered he had to bring his wife. He turned around and walked back to her and did the only thing that was in his mind. He swept her off her feet and carried her out the door and to the car.

"The bag, where's the bag?" she asked.

"It's already in the car," he answered.

"Then let's go!" she screamed once again.

"Don't yell, babe," he tried to tell her gently as he strapped the seatbelt over her.

"Oh God, it hurts. I hate you for this..."

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"I'm divorcing you if you don't get me to the hospital now!"

"Okay!" he shut the door and circled around the car. "God!" he cried in frustration before opening the driver's side.

If he knew it would be this difficult, he would not have agreed to have a baby. They were doing great for the past two years. They could have always borrowed Willie who was now around four and already a pain in the ass and Chanty would gladly just say yes.

He drove as fast as he could. He cringed every time he heard his wife whimper in pain. He couldn't stand to see her that way, and when he saw a tear roll down her cheek, he almost cursed.

His greatest weakness was her tears. Just like that day in the airport when she was signing those divorce papers, just like that night when she told him about her past, and that day when he found her on that island after being stuck there for half a day.