The Color of Regret

The burning sensation in my stomach flared up again. I touched my flat belly, hiding a three-month-old life inside. Lately, I've been suddenly craving snacks, and today, I was especially eager for oranges. The thought of the sweet and sour juice bursting on my tongue made my mouth water. William Xavier was a surgeon at the city center hospital, so busy he barely had time to rest. But I still called him. "Honey, can you bring me some oranges after work?" I tried to keep my voice gentle. Hurried footsteps sounded from the other end of the line. "Okay, got it." Dinner was reheated three times before William Xavier finally dragged his weary self home. My eyes lit up as I stared at his hands—empty. "Where are the oranges?" I couldn't help but ask. William Xavier paused, then wore an apologetic look. "Sorry, there was an extra surgery today. I forgot." I felt a pang of disappointment but still nodded. "It's okay, maybe next time." He took off his white coat and casually threw it on the sofa. A small pink box slipped out of his pocket. I bent down to pick it up. The moment I opened it, my heart felt like it had been stabbed with an ice pick. It was a strawberry-shaped hairpin, the rhinestones flashing with a sharp glare. Not my style, nor anything I'd ever asked for. "What's this?" My voice shook slightly. William Xavier's eyes flickered. "Oh, it's for a female colleague. She asked me to help pick it up." I didn't ask any further; the answer was already clear in my mind. At night, William Xavier was sleeping soundly. I picked up the phone he had left on the bedside table. I unlocked it with the password, and the screen lit up. The pinned chat wasn't with me. It was with a girl named Debra Quinn, her profile picture a young woman in a white coat. Their chat was filled with messages. "William, the hairpin is so beautiful, thank you~" "I'm glad you like it. I'll buy you another if I see something nice next time." "William, you're so good to me!" "Silly girl." Followed by a sticker of a girl rubbing her head. I scrolled down and saw a photo of them together. In the hospital corridor, Debra Quinn linked arms with William Xavier, her smile radiant. There was another photo, taken in a restaurant, where William Xavier was cutting steak for her. The date was just last week. He said he was working late that day. The craving for the orange in my stomach suddenly disappeared, leaving only a storm of nausea. I shook William Xavier awake. He groggily opened his eyes. "What's wrong?" "Let's get a divorce." I said calmly. William Xavier's drowsiness vanished instantly. "What did you say? You must be joking." "I'm not joking." I threw the mobile phone in front of him. "How long have you and Debra Quinn been seeing each other?" His face instantly went pale. A night without sleep. William Xavier spent the whole night explaining, saying he was just looking out for a new colleague, nothing inappropriate. I didn't listen to a single word. Those intimate messages and photos spoke louder than any excuse. At dawn, William Xavier left. I curled up on the sofa, hands on my belly, tears silently falling. Child, what am I supposed to do? Around noon, William Xavier came home. He was carrying a large bag of oranges, each one plump and bright. "Stella, look, I bought the oranges you wanted most." His voice bore a tone of pleading. He sat beside me, carefully peeling an orange. The fresh scent of the orange peel wafted around, but I had lost all appetite. He held the peeled orange to my lips. "Here, try it. It's really sweet." I turned my head away, refusing it. "Stella, I know I was wrong," he said, putting down the orange and taking my hand. "I shouldn't have forgotten to buy you oranges, nor gotten so close to Debra." "Give me one more chance, okay? For the sake of our child." Mentioning our child softened my heart a little more.