Chapter 121

Christiana’s POV.

The wait was excruciating.

大¥98%

+5.

I sat in the cold hospital corridor, my fingers tightly knotted in Alex’s as the minutes crawled by, each one feeling like an hour. The distant sounds of the hospital, the quiet hum of machines, and the shuffle of nurses passing us by did nothing to calm the relentless storm in my chest. Alex squeezed my hand every so often, wordlessly reminding me that he was here, steady and calm, grounding me. But even his strength couldn’t stop my mind from spinning with fear. My little boy, my sweet Ethan, was on the operating table, and there was nothing could do.

Emma had drifted off at some point, her small head nestled against the chair, clutching her stuffed toy as though it held all her hope. I envied her innocence–the way she could find peace amid the chaos, trusting that everything would be okay.

I took a shaky breath, glancing over at Alex. He looked composed, but I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders seemed to bear the weight of my fears as well as his own. He caught my gaze, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.

“He’ll pull through, Christiana,” he said, his voice warm, soothing.

I managed a nod, but I couldn’t bring myself to respond. Words felt too fragile, like they’d shatter under the weight of my

worry.

After what felt like an eternity, the doors to the operating room swung open. My heart leaped, and I was on my feet in an instant, clutching Alex’s arm as the surgeon approached us, pulling off his mask.

“It was successful,” the doctor announced, offering a reassuring smile. “Ethan’s appendicitis had ruptured, but we managed to clean the area thoroughly. He’s stable now, and we’ll monitor him closely as he recovers.”

Relief flooded through me, sudden and overwhelming, and my knees nearly gave way. Alex held me steady, pulling me into an embrace as my shoulders shook. Tears blurred my vision, but they weren’t the tears of despair I’d feared–they were tears of relief, of gratitude.

“Oh, thank you… thank you,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

The doctor nodded, his expression kind. “He’ll need rest, but children are resilient. You can see him in his room shortly.”

if to anchor me to the ground. “See? He’s okay,” he murmured, his forehead pressing against

in the hallway, the nurses finally wheeled Ethan out, pale but peaceful, tubes and monitors surrounding him. My heart clenched as I watched him, still so small, lying so quietly after such a terrifying ordeal. It hurt to

open as they settled him into his bed. I moved closer, brushing a hand over his forehead, feeling the warmth of his skin under my fingers.

him and

the same mix of love and Alex

on sadness I felt. I turned to him, reaching for his hand, and he took

assured me, his voice a low, steady murmur that somehow seemed to chase away the last

him, my heart finally beginning to calm.

1/3

Nov 6

Chapter 121

to the relief washing over

98%

+5

reminder that he was here, alive, breathing. I stroked his hand softly, the warmth of his skin reassuring, even as his tiny

strong for all of us, but as he looked down at our son, I saw the exhaustion and, worry he had been holding back. He’d been our anchor through all of this, and now, in the quiet of

leaped. “Ethan?” I whispered, leaning closer, hoping he’d wake, just enough for

groggily, his gaze landing on me. “Mom?” he

fresh tears. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m here,” I murmured, brushing his hair back

his eyes finding Alex, who

too,

it all in. “My tummy hurts,” he mumbled, his brow furrowing

my voice trembling as I cupped his cheek. “The doctors helped

Ethan,” Alex

to sleep, his breathing evening out. I let out a shaky breath, unable to take my eyes off him.

turned to see Emma, awake now, her wide eyes

voice quivering as she looked between us and

is going to be okay,” I assured her, holding her close. “He just needs some rest, and soon he’ll be back home with

as she buried herself in my arms. “I was so scared,

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255