Eleven Years All to the Wrong Man novel Chapter 129

The moment Emma woke up, her stomach churned. She hunched over the toilet, retching again and again until she felt like she had nothing left to throw up but bile.

Hearing the noise, Mrs. Alvarez came in from outside. She first tied Emma's hair back, then brought her a glass of water. Patting Emma's back to soothe her, she handed her the water with a worried look. "Ma'am, your morning sickness seems quite severe. Have you been to the hospital for a check-up yet?"

Emma, feeling weak, shook her head. She took the glass, swished a mouthful of water, and spat it out.

It had been almost a week since the pregnancy test came back positive, but she had been so busy with one thing after another that she hadn't yet been to the OB/GYN for an ultrasound.

Mrs. Alvarez frowned, her eyes filled with sympathy as she watched Emma, who looked pale and utterly drained. She couldn't help but complain, "You know, it's one thing for your husband to be busy all the time, but now that you're pregnant, he should at least make some time to come home and see you. He said he was going on a business trip, and it's been five days without him once coming back..."

Mrs. Alvarez had always been a discreet person. She knew her place was just to cook and clean for her employers—strictly an employee-boss relationship. She knew she shouldn't comment on their personal affairs or say such things, but...

Seeing Emma getting thinner by the day and looking so pale, she felt a genuine pang of concern and couldn't stop herself from speaking her mind.

Emma pushed herself up, standing shakily.

She hadn't told Mrs. Alvarez about the impending divorce yet. She had planned on waiting until the papers were finalized, but now she figured it didn't matter if she said it sooner or later.

After a moment of hesitation, Emma said calmly, "Mrs. Alvarez, we're getting a divorce."

"...What? Oh, ma'am, I..."

Emma smiled. "No need. I'm already awake, so I'll just eat downstairs."

After breakfast, she drove to the hospital. This time, however, she didn't head straight for the hematology department on the 15th floor but went to the OB/GYN clinic on the 8th floor instead.

When the elevator doors opened, the atmosphere was much more cheerful than in the hematology department, where everyone's faces were clouded with worry.

There were many pregnant women, some with large bellies and others not yet showing, accompanied by their husbands, family, or friends. Everyone wore smiles filled with sweet anticipation for the future, and the sight brought a sense of warmth and happiness to Emma's own complicated heart.

She stood in line to register by herself. The feeling was all too familiar. The last time she had stood in line like this, waiting for an examination, was in the hematology department on the 15th floor.