When I went into labor, I called my husband over and over—thirty times. He didn’t answer a single one. My brother ended up driving me to the hospital while I tried to hide my tears between contractions. Ten hours later, my husband finally called, and my brother told him coldly, “She didn’t make it.” The words shattered him. He dropped everything and raced to the hospital, trembling as he waited outside the ward, realizing what his pride might have cost him.
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