Bastard Husband

Chapter 2 

Claire’s POV 

ONE DAY LATER. 

I went to the hospital early for work; the sterile white walls offered a peaceful ambiance early that morning. My jerk husband hasn‘ t called me yet, but I don‘ t care anymore. 

I sat in my swivel chair while staring at the blank screen of my computer until my phone buzzed, and I raised my eyebrow as I read the caller‘ s ID–LUCAS. 

I picked up the phone and answered his call with a blunt voice, “Yes?” 

I saw… 

“You saw what?” I asked as if his reaction didn’t matter to me anymore. 

“I read the miscarriage report on the table. Why didn’t you tell me about it?!” he asked angrily, his voice filled with frustration. 

“Sorry, I forgot. Of course, you were busy last night,” I said sarcastically. “You had an important meeting and I don’t want to bother you.” 

He snarled, “We could have saved the baby if you had told me about it!” 

Sadly, my husband was once again babbling nonsense and blaming me for everything. 

“Really? Are you sure about it? You were with May last night. You lied to me, Lucas.” 

Lucas paused and sighed, “I was not with her last night. Are you jealous again? Or maybe you lost the baby because of your nonsense jealousy?” His denial was like a wall separating us in this tense confrontation. 

“Nonsense? You don’t know what happened last night, Lucas. You weren’t there! You’d promised me you’d come back, and I waited for hours, but you didn’t!” My voice trembled. 

And he raised his voice, “Because I was in a meeting with the board!” 

“Oh, absolutely!” I said, dripping with sarcasm. “You were in a meeting, and not spending the night with May, right?” “How many times have I told you- 

#1 

I cut him off, unable to stomach another lame excuse. The line went dead, and I sighed in frustration. I took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling the anger simmering inside me. 

My phone buzzed on the table, a text message from Lucas. I thought he finally understood me, but I was wrong again. “I’m sorry. But let’s forget about it.” 

“An apology without remorse.” I whispered to myself as I let out a bitter scoff. 

He sent me another message: “But why has my shirt not been ironed yet? And you don’t even prepare breakfast for 

me.” 

My frustration boiled over again. Here I was, reeling from the loss of our child, and all he could think of was his basic needs. What a jerk! 

A sudden knock on my clinic door startled me. “Come in,” I said. 

The Nurse stepped in and smiled. “Good morning, Dr. Claire! The Supervisor wants to see you.” 

“Oh? Uh, yeah, thanks. I’ll be right there.” 

The Nurse left, and after a few seconds, I followed her down the hallway and into the Supervisor’s office. 

“Hi, Claire,” he said as I entered. “Come on in.” 

He gestured to a chair and smiled, his fingers crossed on the desk. “I have some good news for you.” 

My heart skipped a beat. “What is it, Dr. Cullen?” 

“I was wondering if you’d be interested in pursuing further training in Canada,” he explained. “Our hospital is 

excellent, but they offer a program for representative training from each affiliated institution. That’s what I have in mind for you. If you agree, I’ll handle all the arrangements.” 

Surprise surged through me. Going abroad for training has always been a dream and I wouldn’t give up on any chance for the sake of my jerk husband anymore. 

Tears welled up in my eyes. “Of course, Dr. Cullen! I’d be honored to accept your offer. Thank you so much!” He smiled, “You still have time to prepare.” 

****** 

As it got dark, I cleaned everything on my desk and put all the reports for the next doctor who would temporarily replace me on file in the next few months. I still need a lot of patients to attend before the night ends. 

Then suddenly, my phone rang, and it was Lucas, again. 

“What?” 

“What time will you be here?” he asked, a hint of impatience in his voice. 

“I won’t be coming home tonight, I got a lot of work- 

But he angrily cut me off, asking, “What do you mean by that? I haven’t seen you all day, and now you’re not coming 

home?!” 

Another sigh escaped my lips, heavier this time, “Oh, just like you, I’m busy too.” 

“Are you mad at me, Claire?” 

Was I mad? 

The truth was, anger seemed a distant echo. His constant lies and inconsideration had chipped away at my feelings, leaving behind a numb ache. 

And I finally answered him, “I don’t know…” my voice barely whispered, but I knew he could feel it. 

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