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Chapter 78
Chapter 78
Brandon rocked up to the hospital half an hour late, despite flooring it the whole way there and nearly getting a ticket for speeding. The distance wasn’t exactly a stone’s throw, and those damn traffic lights held him up big time.
The moment he pulled up at the hospital entrance, he bolted out of the car and made a beeline for the outpatient hall.
“Hey, could you point me to the maternity center?” he asked, breezing past the information desk.
“Sixth floor, take a right out of the elevator, you can’t miss the signs,” replied the nurse at the desk, gesturing politely towards the escalator.
“Thanks,” Brandon shot back, already on the move. He hit the escalator like it was a sprint, taking two steps at a time, and by the time he reached the sixth floor, he quickly spotted the maternity center, following the signs with arrows. Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!
It was bustling in the maternity center that afternoon. The place was packed to the gills-from the information desk to the waiting room, with folks lined up to register, others queuing up to have their blood pressure taken or to get weighed, and a bunch waiting outside the fetal monitoring room. Not to mention the long benches outside each consultation room were filled with expectant mothers and their families.
Brandon scanned the sea of faces, some weary, some buzzing with anticipation, some downright giddy, but none of them were Sophia. He approached the nurse at the desk, his eyes full of concern, “Excuse me, has there been a pregnant lady named Sophia here?”
As he spoke, he jotted down Sophia’s name on a blank piece of paper on the desk. He then flipped out his phone to show the nurse their wedding photo, pointing at Sophia, “Is she still around?”
The nurse glanced at the photo and then pointed towards a door with lights blazing above it, “She’s in there. She’s been in for a while
now.”
Brandon’s face froze for a moment as he slowly turned to look at the maternity operating room.
The door was tightly shut, the light inside was bright and clear, and the big red letters reading “IN SURGERY” were glaringly vivid. He stood there, staring blankly at the closed OR door.
The nurse at the desk noticed the veins in his hand standing out and his Adam’s apple bobbing furiously, his face taut, his eyes fixated on the door, unblinking. Concerned, she called out, “Sir? Are you okay?”
Brandon glanced back at her, shook his head slightly, and then walked towards the operating room door.
Right at that moment, the OR door swung open.
A nurse was wheeling out a bed.
Among the blue and white, Brandon caught sight of Sophia lying on the bed, her eyes reddened from crying, looking weak.
Sophia saw Brandon standing in the hallway too, his black overcoat fluttering at the hem, his usually neat hair somewhat disheveled, clearly rushing to get there.
Their gazes met in the air, both eerily calm, so still it was almost deathly.
Brandon stood there, rooted to the spot, just staring at her, watching as she was wheeled closer by the nurse. His calm eyes were like a stagnant pool, the violent bobbing of his Adam’s apple betraying the storm of emotions within.
Sophia’s lips quivered slightly, her eyes moistening again with tears she couldn’t hold back, as she averted her gaze just a bit.
Brandon turned his head away too, his eyes shifting to the side.
As the bed was wheeled past him, Brandon’s hand twitched and then gently grasped the bed rail.
The nurse pushing the bed gave him a puzzled look, “May I ask who you
are?”
Her inquisitive eyes then shifted to Sophia.
Sophia’s expression remained composed. She didn’t look at the nurse or Brandon.
Brandon turned to the nurse, “I’m the father of the child.”
His voice was slow and hoarse, as if it had been worn down by sandpaper, rough and gravelly.