Chapter 400: Susan's Irritation

Susan rushed to the toilet and vomited. Why did pregnancy inflict such suffering? Vomiting had become a frequent occurrence, a debilitating disorder that had persisted for months with no end in sight. Must she endure this misery until the baby's birth? Her stomach yielded only bile.

"Do you feel better?" a familiar voice asked.

"Not yet!" Susan snapped.

He pursed his lips, worry etched on his face. He offered her a cup of warm water. "Gargling might help."

Susan ignored the water, going to the vanity instead. She turned on the tap and gargled with running water. Manuel's help felt like an unwanted intrusion. This man, she thought, was the architect of her misery. The thought fueled her rage.

A torrent of anger, mingling with her stomach's distress, erupted. "Why don't you just leave me alone?" she exploded at Manuel. "Your presence only makes things worse! Can't you offer anything constructive?"

Manuel watched the volatile woman, absorbing her outburst.

"All right," he said quietly. "I'll leave the water on the bedside table. Just rest."

He wheeled himself out of the bathroom.

Watching him leave in the mirror, Susan felt a wave of self-reproach wash over her. Hell. Why did she always feel guilty after lashing out at him? She felt capable of something unforgivable, yet fury still consumed her. Wiping her face, she returned to bed.

A glass of warm water sat silently on the bedside table. She took a sip, quenching her thirst, but not her guilt. Guilt felt unnecessary; Manuel was the root of her torment. Without their marriage, life would have been better. Now, she’d lost love and her sense of well-being. Perhaps the baby was born to spite her, allied with Manuel against her.

Filling the cup and her heart with anger, Susan lay down. Her suffering stomach and fury intertwined as she drifted off, wondering when this ordeal would end.

She awoke to darkness. Leaving the bedroom, she found others in the living room: Justine watching television, Tia sitting close to Manuel, who appeared to be correcting her English. They seemed so close, so comfortably familial, leaving her feeling like an outsider. Tia seemed more like Manuel's wife than she was.

"Mrs. Johnson," Tia said, rising abruptly.

Susan merely turned and walked to the dining hall.

Tia, baffled by Susan's hostility, followed. "Do you need some food, Mrs. Johnson?"

"Do I come to the dining room for anything else?" Susan retorted.

"Of course, Mrs. Johnson," Tia responded, "I'll serve you quickly."

Susan's curt reply was bossy. Tia was efficient. Soon, dishes were on the table. "Dinner is ready, Ms. Knight, Mr. Johnson," she announced modestly.

Justine and Manuel slowly joined her.

Susan checked her phone. 8:30 pm. Why hadn't they eaten yet? Were they waiting for her? A wave of unexpected gratitude washed over her – or perhaps they simply weren't hungry, except for her, she told herself.

Dismissing her doubts, she began to eat. However, her nausea limited her intake; porridge was her usual fare these days, as it had become for Manuel and Justine.

"Do you feel better?" Justine asked.

Susan ignored her.

"I recovered from morning sickness by the fourth month," Justine said, unfazed by Susan's rudeness. "Why are you still suffering? You should go to the hospital."

"I won't go to any hospital," Susan insisted.

"So you'd rather endure this?" Justine asked, irritated.

"It's none of your business."

"You're carrying my grandchild," Justine retorted. "I don't care about you, but I won't stand by while anything risks my grandchild."

"Am I risking the baby?" Susan's voice rose. "It's the baby that's risking me! I've suffered enough! What did I do in a past life to deserve this torture?"

"You did something evil, and now you're paying for it," Justine declared.

The remark enraged Susan. Perhaps Justine thrived on their arguments.

Susan slammed her spoon down. Her appetite, and dinner, were over. She stood and left.

Manuel started to follow but Justine stopped him. He remained silent, watching Susan return to the bedroom and slam the door.

"Don't listen to her," Justine said. "Compromise will only spoil her; she won't go to the hospital with you. Tomorrow, you must take her for a checkup, no matter what. No one can endure this prolonged vomiting, neither the baby nor its mother. Pregnancy is demanding; we must take better care of her, or she'll suffer even more."

"Understood," Manuel nodded.

"Do you think she left because of our argument?" Justine observed. "You'd be wrong. She simply lacks an appetite. Don't pressure her; it's too much for her."

Tia, standing nearby, remarked, "Ms. Knight, why can't Mrs. Johnson appreciate your care?"

Justine shrugged. "I'm used to her childishness."

Manuel chuckled. Home wouldn't be the same without his open-minded mother-in-law.

After dinner, Manuel took some of Susan's favorite food to the bedroom. She sat against the headboard, playing a game, seemingly oblivious to his presence. He placed the food down. "I'll play the game for you; you can eat."

"No," Susan refused. Her appetite was gone, but the fight with Justine was less of a factor than her lack of desire to eat. She wasn't foolish enough to starve herself over that woman.