Chapter 2
“I’ll sign it myself,” I murmured, forcing the words out. My hand trembled as I scribbled my name on the paper. Just as I thought I might pass out from the pain, I overheard the nurses talking nearby. “Its so unfair, isn’t it? That pregnant woman with the last name West–her husband treats her like a queen,” one said in disbelief.
“And here this poor woman is, barely clinging to life, and we can’t even find her family.”
Afraid that I might feel worse hearing this, the young nurse quickly interrupted them, her voice thick. with emotion. “Stop talking! She can hear you.‘”
But I wasn‘ t angry; in fact, I found it oddly amusing. If only they knew the ‘good husband‘ they were praising had left his wife to bleed out while rushing to care for another woman–I wonder what they
would think.
But none of that mattered now. All I cared about was saving my baby.
As the anesthesia started to take effect, I struggled to stay awake. My eyes found the nurses, and with the last bit of strength I had, I whispered, “My baby…
But before I could finish, darkness overtook me.
I didn’t know how much time had passed, but when I woke up, my ears were filled with frantic voices. Doctors surrounded me, bright operating room lights glaring down on my pale face.
“The patient is losing too much blood, and the baby‘ Sheartbeat is gone! Call Dr. Levine from obstetrics–now!”
My right hand was still gripped tightly by the young nurse, who whispered, trying to calm me, “It’s going to be okay, Dr. Levine is an expert. She’ll save your baby.
Her voice trembled, betraying her worry. I nodded weakly, holding on to the hope that my child could
still survive.
The sound of hurried footsteps filled the room, and then a nurse‘ s excited voice rang out, “Dr. Levine
is here!”
For a brief moment, relief washed over me.
Π
118, 119, the baby’s heartbeat has returned!”
The operating room was filled with cheers of relief. But that was short–lived.
A loud, forceful knock came from outside the operating room. The nurse went to check and returned, her face brightening.
“Ms. Cromwell, your husband is here to see you!” she said excitedly.
But before I could even register her words, Colin’s voice cut through the air, sharp and hurried. “Dr. Levine, my wife is pregnant! She‘ s in pain–please, you have to check on her now!”
The room fell silent. Dr. Levine‘ s eyes hardened as she answered firmly, “I’m in the middle of a critical surgery. You’ll have to wait.”
The young nurse holding my hand suddenly stormed out, her anger palpable. “Are you insane?” she shouted at Colin. “Your wife is here fighting for her life, and you re trying to steal her doctor for someone else?”
Colin’s voice faltered, confused. “Eloise? Eloise Cromwell? She’s the one in surgery?”
Then he laughed–a cruel, sarcastic laugh as he spat, “Don‘ t be ridiculous. She’s not pregnant. Why would she need an obstetrician?”
He tried to barge in, but the nurses blocked his path. His voice rang out in anger.
“You have no ethics! Neglecting a real pregnant woman–I’m going to report all of you!” he barked. Tears welled in my eyes, not from the pain but from the realization. Whether I was pregnant or not,
he interrupted the surgery, it could cost me my life. Apparently, to him, my life–and the life of our
child–was meaningless. The people fighting to save me were strangers. But my husband, the man I had loved for seven years, didn’t care whether I lived or died.
“She’s losing consciousness! Her blood pressure is plummeting!” someone shouted. I could hear Colin’s footsteps retreating, leaving me behind, just as he had always done.
