The Poisonous Vitamin

I stared at the white pill on the dressing table, my heart trembling. This was the "vitamin" Milton Evans handed me every morning. He always looked at me gently as I took it: "Lilian, this is an imported supplement I specially had someone find. It can improve your health. You must take it obediently." I once believed this firmly, thinking it was proof of his care for me. Until yesterday, while tidying the study, I accidentally knocked open his drawer. A whole bottle of pills, identical to the "vitamins" I took every day, fell out, the label glaringly reading "Short-acting contraceptive pill." In that moment, it felt as though all the blood in my body had frozen. Milton and I have been married for three years. He always postponed having children, saying he wasn't ready yet or wanted to enjoy a few more years of just the two of us. I sympathized with how hard he worked to start his business and never complained, but I never expected he would deceive me in this way. "What are you thinking about?" Milton's voice came from behind me, breathless from his morning workout. I quickly clenched the pill in my palm, turned around, and forced myself to stay calm. "It's nothing, I was just about to take my medication." He walked over, naturally took the glass of water from my hand, his eyes filled with their usual tenderness. "Take it quickly; it will be bitterer if it gets cold." I looked at his insincere smile, a churning feeling rising in my stomach, yet I steeled myself and swallowed the pill. He rubbed my hair contentedly. "Good girl." At lunch, Milton suddenly brought something up, breaking the quiet at the table. "Lilian, my parents have been pressing hard lately. Grandpa's health is worsening, and they want us to have a child soon to bring some joy." He put down his chopsticks, his tone calm and flat. My heart tightened; I thought he was finally going to ask me for a child. But what followed made me feel as if I had fallen into an ice cellar. "I've already found someone—a healthy young woman named Mary Lynch." Milton's voice was utterly flat. "She looks a lot like you. Once the child is born, we'll say it's ours." "Why find someone else?" I couldn't believe my ears, my voice trembling. "Milton, what do you take me for?" "Lilian, please don't get upset." He frowned, a trace of impatience in his voice. "Pregnancy is too hard on the body. I don't want you to endure that much pain." "I promise you, I will never have any feelings for that woman." He reached out and took my hand. "After the child is born, once I bring the child home, I will cut off all contact with her!" From that day on, Milton came home later and later. He always said, "Mary is ovulating today, I have to go over," or, "Mary is pregnant; I need to keep an eye on her." Our conversations grew fewer and fewer; the once warm home became colder and emptier.