Chapter 2
My assistant hesitated. “Dr. Fairclough, what should we do?”
Suppressing my rage, I replied, “Call the director. I don’t have the authority to make that decision.”
The director approved it quickly, saying the paperwork could be handled later.
Soon, Nelson entered the room, dressed in scrubs.
Olivia immediately started whining.
“Honey, it hurts so much…”
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She was lying, of course. In her semi–anesthetized state, she wouldn’t feel pain.
Nelson held her hand tenderly.
“Hang in there, sweetheart. Once the baby’s born, I’ll reward you.”
“I want that limited–edition designer bag…”
“Anything you want. Just name it.”
Watching this despicable pair, I no longer felt anger.
I only felt self–loathing for being so stupid.
Nelson had been so distant recently, even forgetting my birthday and our anniversary, but I’d foolishly chalked it up to work stress.
“Anstey,” I told myself, “you’re a doctor. No matter who’s on the table, you must do your duty.”
Resolving to stay professional, I picked up the scalpel.
The first incision was smooth. Nelson leaned over to look, then promptly fainted.
Ignoring him, I moved on to the second layer.
“Nelson! Are you okay?” Olivia shrieked, trying to sit up.
My assistant held her down. “Ms. Hilton, please remain still.”
Two nurses dragged Nelson to a corner. I knew what was going on. Nelson must have fainted from the sight of blood.
“How touching,” I thought sarcastically. “He really does care for Olivia.”
We successfully delivered the baby. It was a frail boy, his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, his skin a sickly purple.
“Is the baby out?” Olivia asked anxiously.
“It’s a boy,” my assistant replied.
She was overjoyed and immediately asked, “Why isn’t he crying?”
The assistant didn’t answer. I calmly cleared the mucus from the baby’s airway and gave his foot a firm tap.
The baby’s first cry finally pierced the room.
Nelson stirred, attempting to sit up, but fainted again when he saw the bloodied newborn.
The nurse measured the baby’s vitals and weight before showing him to Olivia.
“He’s a little weak and needs to be placed in an incubator,” the nurse explained.
“What? Incubator? You’re just trying to scam us for money!” Olivia snapped.
I lost my patience.
“Premature babies often require incubators. If you don’t trust our hospital, you’re welcome to transfer elsewhere.”
Her defiance flared.
“Fine! We’ll transfer! My husband can afford it. If it weren’t for…”
She stopped short, then muttered, “Who’d come to this crappy hospital otherwise?”
I knew what she meant. They came here to avoid gossip. After all, I was the best doctor at the city’s top hospital, and if they had born this kid in
the city, I might have found out about their affair.
I handed over the post–op procedures to my team and stepped out.
Just as I was about to take a break, I heard loud yelling from the corridor.
“The baby wasn’t even due yet! Why was he born? I’ll sue this hospital into the ground!”
Looking up, I saw the source of the commotion. It was Nelson’s mother, Rosina.
