Chapter 8
422words
I was also planning to have a good talk with him that evening.
The door lock clicked, and there was movement at the entrance.
I walked to the living room and saw a familiar cake box on the dining table.
It was from my favorite traditional bakery, with the packaging ribbon tied meticulously.
Looking around, I couldn't see where Yuri had gone.
My heart suddenly softened; he was trying to make amends first.
Despite his busy work schedule, he had specially detoured to buy cake.
I walked over, lifted the box cover, and the familiar cream fragrance wafted toward me. I couldn't resist using my fingertip to gently scoop a bit of cream from the edge and just put it in my mouth.
"What are you doing?"
A startled cry came from the stairway.
Serena stood there, her eyes instantly reddening: "This cake was bought for me."
I froze in place, sweetness still lingering on my fingertips.
"Today is my birthday," she said with a choked voice, tears falling instantly. "No one has ever remembered my birthday before."
Hurried footsteps approached.
Yuri came out from the study, saw the crying Serena and the opened cake, and immediately frowned.
"What's going on?" he quickly walked to Serena's side.
"Don't blame her," she sobbed. "She didn't know today is my birthday."
Yuri looked at me, his eyes complex: "This cake was bought for Serena."
I opened my mouth, wanting to explain.
He sighed, his tone reproachful: "Megan, I thought you knew. How could you fight over a cake? You could have told me, and I would have bought another one for you..."
My wrist ached from his grip. I stared at him blankly, never having seen him so out of control before.
Serena suddenly let out a soft moan, clutching her stomach as she crouched down.
Yuri immediately supported her, his voice instantly tense: "Serena, what's wrong?"
"My stomach hurts so much..."
"She might be going into labor!" Yuri scooped her up in his arms and quickly walked out, not even sparing me a glance.
Outside the emergency room, Yuri was bustling about, personally contacting the obstetrics director, and even voluntarily taking on the task of paying the fees.
Unable to find anyone else, the nurse came to ask me:
"Are you a family member? Did you bring the maternity package? If not, you need to fetch it quickly."
Only then did I come to my senses.
"I'll go back and get it."
