Chapter 2
I sat alone in the hospital hallway late at night, kept fidgeting, scooting left and right, just waiting and waiting.
He never showed up—all I got was a WhatsApp message from Alex.
He messaged: [Lily, the hospital doesn't have Emmy's medicine, so I'm taking her out to buy it.]
[You'll have to come downstairs and pay the bill, then pick up your own meds.]
The pale light from my phone screen caught the way my smile faded, and it felt like a storm cloud was rolling in over my heart.
I paid the bill myself, grabbed my meds, and got myself hooked up to an IV drip.
Finally, I managed to get into bed with the IV drip, thinking I could finally get some rest—only to be hit with the urge to pee again.
It's such a pain trying to go to the bathroom with the IV drip, and I really didn't want to ask anyone for help.
I had no real friends in this city—just my coworkers and the people Alex hung out with.
So I just sat there, holding it in and mindlessly scrolling through my phone, when I came across Emily's latest post.
I tapped on the video and saw Alex busy cooking in the kitchen, making a steaming bowl of chicken soup.
Everything looked so familiar and cozy under those warm lights.
Alex had brought her back to our place, and the bowl he used for the soup was the one I'd just gotten from my delivery yesterday.
It was my favorite design—a gorgeous plate. Alex had always said I bought things just because they looked pretty, not because they were practical.
Emily giggled like a little kid, nuzzling her head against Alex's shoulder. "Alex, you're the best!"
Alex kept cooking, smiling warmly, just letting her nuzzle him.
All of Alex's friends had already liked her post.
I gave her post a like with a bitter smile.
Not long after, I got a message from Alex. He must've been worried I'd get mad, because he even used my favorite cat sticker.
He messaged: [Lily, Emmy had to work overtime unexpectedly, so I took her home first.]
[If you want something to eat, just order takeout yourself. I figured you probably wouldn't like whatever I ordered.]
He wrote: [You're more independent than Emmy. She needs someone to take care of her, but you don't. So I won't be coming to the hospital tonight.]
He added a cat sticker that said "Love you."
I just looked at the messages, feeling nothing. There was no trace of the anger or hurt I once had left in me.
I couldn't help but laugh at myself, thinking how pathetic I was. Why did I keep getting my hopes up for things I knew would never happen?
That storm cloud in my chest turned into a heavy, soaked wad of cotton, weighing down on my heart.
The pressure was so stifling and smothering, I could barely catch my breath.