Filed to story: My Husband Regrets Divorcing Me (Audrey & Cornell)
Jarrod felt an overwhelming debt of gratitude toward Nicole’s lawyer. Without the photograph Rhett had presented, he would have been completely unaware of her pregnancy.
That instant confirmation had reignited Jarrod’s extinguished heart with overwhelming joy, making him realize that deep down, he had always longed for this chance.
Despite the overwhelming joy pulsing through Jarrod, a dark cloud of fear loomed overhead, casting a shadow over his happiness. Memories of his past mistakes haunted him relentlessly, especially his failure to protect Austin, his own son, and the pain he had caused.
The mere thought of history repeating itself, of potentially subjecting another innocent life to the same anguish, made him shiver.
As Jarrod dwelt on the specter of loss for something he hadn’t yet held, fear gnawed at him with relentless persistence, its grip tightening with each passing moment.
The last time he had felt such overwhelming dread was when Nicole had staged her own death, and now it had resurfaced. The fear ate away at his soul, rendering him unable to express his anguish.
Silently, Jarrod pleaded, “Nicole, please. Let the child have a chance. Give me the opportunity to make amends.”
That evening, as soon as Jarrod was free from his work commitments, he positioned himself downstairs outside Nicole’s place, his eyes fixed on the glowing window upstairs.
Jarrod scarcely slept a wink that night. It was unclear if he had even managed to sleep at all.
For the next three nights, Jarrod took over from the person keeping an eye on Nicole. According to the reports on her movements, Nicole seemed calm during these days, avoiding meetings and staying holed up at home.
For three agonizing days, Jarrod had been trapped in a state of torment. Each passing second felt like a sharpened sword dangling above his head, ready to strike and shatter his world at any moment.
Eventually, even Conor couldn’t bear to witness it anymore. Each evening, Jarrod showed up promptly. Handling business matters at the company by day, Jarrod then stood guard through the night without a moment’s rest. Even the stoutest of nerves couldn’t endure such relentless pressure.
Conor remarked, his voice tinged with worry, “Mr. Schultz, you have been through so much. Why not open up to Miss Lamence? She might be swayed if she knew how deeply you care for her. Surely, she wouldn’t be so heartless as to go through with the abortion if she understood your feelings.”
Jarrod’s reply was swift, his tone cold and tinged with sarcasm. “You just don’t get it, Conor. No matter what I say, she will only grow more resentful. My words won’t make a dent in her resolve.” The divide between them had stretched so far that bridging it seemed impossible.
Conor’s mind spun with confusion. How could a man as charming and eligible as Jarrod fail to win a woman’s heart? Jarrod was fiercely devoted, yet rejected by Nicole time and again.
And now, the weight of carrying the child rested solely on Nicole’s shoulders. Conor couldn’t help but question the effectiveness of Jarrod’s fervent guardianship in ensuring the baby’s safety. Any unforeseen event could put the baby’s well-being at risk in the first trimester of pregnancy.
Conor wisely chose to keep his thoughts to himself. He understood Jarrod’s anxiety and realized that voicing concerns would only add to Jarrod’s distress.
As the dawn broke, casting its first light across the sky, Nicole stepped out of her house and flagged down a taxi.
Keeping a discreet distance, Jarrod followed closely behind.
Observing the car’s trajectory ahead, Jarrod anticipated Nicole’s destination. Maintaining a safe distance to avoid detection, he trailed behind.
As expected, the taxi halted at the entrance of the sanatorium where Nicole’s mother resided.
Nicole alighted from the vehicle and proceeded inside.
Nicole’s visits to the sanatorium were frequent, and the staff had grown accustomed to her presence.
Upon spotting Nicole, they greeted her warmly, “Miss Lawrence, you’re here.”
Nicole nodded in acknowledgment and inquired, “Have there been any changes in my mother’s condition over the past few days?”
This inquiry was routine for Nicole. She feared that even a brief absence might result in her missing pertinent updates regarding her mother’s health. Yet, she couldn’t afford to disregard external matters entirely and remain constantly by her mother’s side.
Undoubtedly, Nicole harbored a fervent desire to bring her mother home, but Jarrod’s opposition rendered it an unattainable prospect.
Furthermore, the sanatorium offered comprehensive medical facilities crucial for her mother’s treatment—amenities that couldn’t be replicated at home.
The nurse responded, “No change. She remains the same as before.”
Consistently receiving the same update didn’t dampen Nicole’s spirits. Oftentimes, the absence of change was the most comforting news of all.
Dora existed in this perpetual haze. Wasn’t this state a blessing? If Dora were to awaken, how would she confront the harsh reality of their broken family?
If feasible, Nicole wished to shoulder this burden alone.
Addressing the nurse, Nicole requested, “May I have some time alone with my mother?”
“Of course, Miss Lawrence. I’ll step out for now. If you require anything, just ring the bell.”
“Thank you.”
Once the nurse exited, Nicole turned her attention to Dora, who remained seated on the bed, fixated on the delicate flowers adorning the windowsill, motionless. Nicole gently called out, “Mom…”
Dora offered no response, her gaze steadfastly fixed on the blossoms outside, unblinking.
Nicole drew closer to Dora, enveloping her in a tender embrace.
“Mom…”
Nicole harbored a multitude of thoughts, a torrent of words clamoring for release, yet she grappled with where to begin.
In this sacred space, she found solace in unburdening herself of the myriad thoughts and pressures that had weighed heavily upon her, finding a measure of relief in the act itself.
“Mom… Mom…” Ultimately, Nicole didn’t reveal anything. She simply held her mother close, tears streaming down her cheeks in a torrent of anguish. With each sob, the weight upon her shoulders seemed to lighten, as if her tears carried away a portion of her burdens.
“Mom, what am I supposed to do?”
Nicole understood her mother wouldn’t provide an answer, but still, she couldn’t suppress the desperate plea. Just as she did in childhood, when faced with insurmountable challenges, she sought solace from her parents.
They were her invincible protectors, capable of remedying any predicament.
Yet, Dora remained unresponsive.
Nicole wept for a time before tenderly smoothing Dora’s hair and adjusting her clothing.
Though her heart still felt void, the emptiness was less acute than before.
“Mom, I’m leaving now. I’ll visit you again soon.”
Nicole rose to her feet, a familiar routine unfolding as Dora remained silent, as always.
Nicole made her way toward the exit, her steps measured and deliberate.
Just as she reached the threshold, a faint, fragmented utterance reached her ears from behind. “Flower…”
Nicole froze in her tracks. She couldn’t believe what she had heard and swiftly pivoted to face her mother lying in the bed.
Dora raised her hand slowly, pointing at the petite blossoms adorning the windowsill. With a hesitant and halting cadence, she murmured, “Flower… The flower has bloomed…”
Nicole was incredulous. Rushing back to Dora’s side, she grasped Dora’s shoulders urgently. “Mom! Mom! Can you speak now? Do you recognize me?”
Dora was jolted by Nicole’s sudden movements, compelled to turn her head and gaze steadily at Nicole. With deliberate slowness, she scrutinized Nicole’s face before gradually lowering her gaze.
Nicole stood transfixed as Dora raised her hand toward Nicole’s abdomen, gently making contact with an awkward yet deliberate gesture. She stammered, “Flower… The little flower has bloomed…”
Nicole was stunned. Adorning her plain gray shirt was a small white chrysanthemum printed on a button.
Dora’s finger pointed directly at the miniature chrysanthemum on Nicole’s button as she repeated, “Little flower…”
Nicole’s startled exclamation drew the attention of a passing nurse, who entered the room and was astonished to witness Dora uttering a few words.
Swiftly, the nurse summoned the sanatorium’s doctor to conduct an examination.
Nicole waited patiently outside as the doctor conducted the examination. Once it was completed, the doctor approached Nicole and delivered his assessment, “Following our evaluation, your mother still hasn’t recollected past events.
Her recent speech may have been coincidental. Nonetheless, it’s a positive sign. Improved communication and expression of basic needs signify significant progress.
Regarding memory retrieval, pushing too hard may burden the patient. Excessive recollection could overwhelm the brain, exacerbating confusion.”
The doctor’s words resonated with a compassionate perspective, treating Dora as he would his own family member.
For the elderly, simplicity and contentment often trumped extensive recollection. Memories, while precious, could sometimes weigh heavily.
Nicole didn’t feel disappointed by the examination outcome. On the contrary, she was filled with gratitude. Her sentiments aligned with the doctor’s perspective. In her view, this was the optimal outcome for her broken family.
Simply being able to communicate in basic terms was a significant achievement for Dora.
Returning to Dora’s ward, Nicole spent a little while longer with her. However, after their initial exchange, Dora remained silent.
With Dora soon needing to rest, Nicole departed the ward quietly, opting not to disturb her.
After departing from the sanatorium, Nicole eschewed the taxi stand, opting instead to linger at the entrance for a moment. Without hesitation, she strode purposefully toward the green belt where a silver sedan was parked.
Nicole knocked on the window and prompted the glass to glide down, revealing a familiar, handsome visage—Jarrod was inside.
Jarrod displayed no hint of surprise at being discovered. The vehicle in question belonged to his assistant, a deliberately unassuming choice.
However, Nicole’s acute sensitivity meant she had long been aware of Jarrod’s surveillance, yet she refrained from exposing him.
“Let’s discuss tomorrow morning,” Nicole stated tersely, her tone icy.
With that declaration, Nicole pivoted on her heel and departed without a second thought.