Filed to story: My Husband Regrets Divorcing Me (Audrey & Cornell)
To the medical team, Jarrod appeared deranged.
They did not understand why Jarrod was trying to communicate with a patient who could only make wheezing sounds due to her damaged vocal cords.
Finally, Jarrod let go. He remained motionless, then picked up his phone from the floor and followed the medical team.
Outside the emergency room, Jarrod’s hands were shaking uncontrollably.
He had thought that confining her to the detention center would only limit her freedom, teaching her a lesson for defying and harming the untouchables.
How could things have ended up this way…..
What did Nicole mean by accusing him of killing his own son?
A sharp pain, like a needle, struck his temple. Leaning against the wall, he dialed Alec.
“Find out everything that happened to Nicole in the detention center.
If you miss a single detail, you will be tortured to death.”
The medical team dragged on for eight grueling hours.
Jarrod stood outside the operating room, motionless, his figure like a statue.
Inside, Nicole lay on the table, her complexion pale and her breathing momentarily halted.
The operation was in the hands of the hospital’s most experienced professor, assisted by a promising young doctor named Roscoe.
Roscoe, despite his youth and lack of qualifications to be chief surgeon, was extraordinarily skilled in the research of drug therapies, especially in the treatment of cancer and the prolongation of life.
On the operating table, the professor looked at Nicole, whose abdomen was severely compromised, and slowly shook his head.
“It’s too late…”.
Roscoe, normally composed, showed a crack in his demeanor. His voice slightly hoarse, he implored, “Please save her.”
Looking at the normally stoic Roscoe, the professor asked, “Who is this woman to you?”.
Roscoe’s thoughts went back to the summer he first saw Nicole.
At the time, eighteen-year-old Nicole was accompanying her father to a charity event in the country.
She was wearing a striking red dress, complemented by a wide-brimmed black hat, and her skin was delicate. Her smile was like that of a radiant, dazzling red rose.
He later learned Nicole’s name and her identity as the daughter of a wealthy businessman known for helping underprivileged children like himself.
That fleeting encounter lingered in his memory, a moment frozen in time that left an indelible mark on Roscoe’s heart.
However, Nicole was still here, badly injured.
The once flawless lady was now scarred by injuries, and he felt powerless to help her.
His skills, formidable as they were, seemed insignificant in the face of the harsh realities of capitalism. He could only stand idly by while she suffered.
With determination burning in his eyes, Roscoe stated firmly, “She is the most important person to me.”
In the operating room, despite his exceptional talent, Roscoe found himself powerless to help Nicole.
Emotions could cloud judgment.
After the operation, only Roscoe and a nurse remained.
Nicole, barely conscious, recognized a familiar figure and felt relief.
Her eyelashes trembled, her voice barely a whisper. Through her lips, she conveyed, “Ros…I don’t want others to know about my illness.”
She refused to spend her last days under the weight of pity and sympathy.
She longed to maintain her dignity, to leave this world with grace and poise.
“I understand,” Roscoe replied, understanding her wishes.
He stroked her hair tenderly, his voice firm.
“Don’t worry. You won’t be alone.”
He resolved to be by her side if that day came.
Nicole fell peacefully asleep.
Roscoe’s gaze turned icy as he faced the nurse, asking, “Is that man still waiting outside?”
The nurse nodded, and Roscoe walked out, holding the medical report.
The nurse, watching Roscoe leave, suddenly sensed something was wrong.
Roscoe’s tone seemed to drip with disdain when he referred to the man waiting for Nicole.
Her memories revealed that, although Roscoe maintained an aloof air, he had never before addressed patients’ families in such a manner.
As they left the operating room, Roscoe’s observant eyes met Jarrod’s, who had an anxiety-scarred forehead.
“Doctor, how are you?” Jarrod approached Roscoe, urgency in his voice. It was then that Jarrod recognized the doctor’s familiar face.
Roscoe, maintaining his professional demeanor, informed him, “The fetus has not survived. The patient is extremely weak and shows signs of physical abuse. It has lost several fingernails…”.
Jarrod’s heart squeezed tightly at these words.
Roscoe continued, “He has a severe stomach ulcer. He hasn’t eaten well for days and we’ve found dirt in his stomach. If this keeps up, his condition will get worse.”
Roscoe felt compelled to warn Jarrod about Nicole’s condition, regardless of Nicole’s reasons for keeping her cancer a secret.
After all, Nicole had to deal with Jarrod for some time before Jarrod managed to throw Nicole’s parents out.
Roscoe hoped Jarrod still had some conscience.
Roscoe then presented a small box to Jarrod.
“She asked for this to be given to you before the operation.”
Jarrod, looking at the dark box, had an ominous feeling.
Without opening it, he asked, “What’s inside?” Calmly, Roscoe replied, “It contains a biological sample of the fetus.”
Jarrod felt a sharp pang in his heart.
If Nicole had dared to do this, it meant she was sure the child was hers.
Her child… hers… How could she be so sure?
Caught up in his thoughts, Jarrod realized that, apart from the man’s accusations, he had never actually seen Nicole’s infidelity.
His mind churned with a torrent of thoughts.
Jarrod staggered backward, leaning against the wall to support himself.
Roscoe’s face showed a slight smirk as he turned to leave.
After the operation, Nicole slept soundly.
Audrey came to visit her and sat beside her for a long time.
During that time, Roscoe came to check on Nicole, assuring Audrey that Nicole’s deep sleep was normal.
Audrey watched Roscoe’s gaze linger on Nicole. His eyes held a deep, unspoken affection.
But as soon as Roscoe looked up, that softness disappeared, leaving Audrey wondering if he had imagined things.
Soon Audrey’s phone rang. It was a message from Cornell.
“Meet me outside in five minutes.”
His mood changed to tension.
He gathered his belongings, leaned over Nicole’s sleeping face and whispered, “I promise I’ll come back and visit tomorrow, Nicole.”
Outside, Audrey waited at the hospital entrance, watching Cornell’s car gently approach.
The day was strikingly beautiful, the sun casting a golden light everywhere.
Cornell stepped out, attracting stares with his tall figure and striking appearance.