Chapter 2 · Seven ER Calls He Rejected, Then Our Son Chose Another Man

Chapter 2

The ECG monitor finally resumed beating.

Theo was alive, but he still lay in the ICU, tubes all over his body.

I sat by the bed, awake all night.

Morning sunlight came through the blinds.

Theo slowly opened his eyes.

He moved his cracked lips and asked his first question:

"Did Daddy come?"

I looked at him.

This time, I didn't make excuses like before.

Theo followed my silence to look at the empty doorway.

He didn't cry.

He only whispered in defense of the absent man:

"He... he must be working, right?"

I looked at him.

I said:

"He knew you were here."

Theo was quiet for a long time.

He didn't speak again, only turned his face with effort toward the cold wall.

"Oh."

Evening.

Julian finally appeared at the door.

He walked in, and the first thing he did was take his phone and glance at it.

He briefly looked at his son on the bed, then quickly averted his gaze and lowered his voice to interrogate me:

"Naomi, why did the hospital keep calling my private number? If these records go into the official file, do you know how much trouble that would cause?"

I didn't look up.

I took off the wedding ring from my left ring finger, together with those cold diamonds, and put them into the remote-control race car gift box he had brought.

"Take the car with you."

"And the ring too."

Julian's expression darkened, still thinking I was making a fuss:

"We'll talk after Theo is discharged."

I looked at him:

"No need to wait."

I dialed Elodie right in front of him:

"Start the divorce proceedings. Also, ask the hospital to seal all call logs and resuscitation footage from tonight."

The nurse pushed the door open and coldly made a "please" gesture.

Julian stood there, preserving his dignity, and was escorted out.

The room fell quiet again.

On the floor, a box of expensive limited-edition remote-control race cars still gleamed with metallic shine.

I asked him: "Why don't you play? Haven't you always wanted this?"

The seven-year-old pursed his lips and pushed that race car bit by bit into the deepest shadow under the bed.

"I don't want it anymore."

"Why?"

"It came too late."

Elodie walked in with printed hospital call records.

She pushed a few pages in front of me, her face grim.

On the paper was printed a string of red text.

Declined.

He didn't not hear.

He declined seven times.

Chapter 2

The ECG monitor finally resumed beating.

Theo was alive, but he still lay in the ICU, tubes all over his body.

I sat by the bed, awake all night.

Morning sunlight came through the blinds.

Theo slowly opened his eyes.

He moved his cracked lips and asked his first question:

"Did Daddy come?"

I looked at him.

This time, I didn't make excuses like before.

Theo followed my silence to look at the empty doorway.

He didn't cry.

He only whispered in defense of the absent man:

"He... he must be working, right?"

I looked at him.

I said:

"He knew you were here."

Theo was quiet for a long time.

He didn't speak again, only turned his face with effort toward the cold wall.

"Oh."

Evening.

Julian finally appeared at the door.

He walked in, and the first thing he did was take his phone and glance at it.

He briefly looked at his son on the bed, then quickly averted his gaze and lowered his voice to interrogate me:

"Naomi, why did the hospital keep calling my private number? If these records go into the official file, do you know how much trouble that would cause?"

I didn't look up.

I took off the wedding ring from my left ring finger, together with those cold diamonds, and put them into the remote-control race car gift box he had brought.

"Take the car with you."

"And the ring too."

Julian's expression darkened, still thinking I was making a fuss:

"We'll talk after Theo is discharged."

I looked at him:

"No need to wait."

I dialed Elodie right in front of him:

"Start the divorce proceedings. Also, ask the hospital to seal all call logs and resuscitation footage from tonight."

The nurse pushed the door open and coldly made a "please" gesture.

Julian stood there, preserving his dignity, and was escorted out.

The room fell quiet again.

On the floor, a box of expensive limited-edition remote-control race cars still gleamed with metallic shine.

I asked him: "Why don't you play? Haven't you always wanted this?"

The seven-year-old pursed his lips and pushed that race car bit by bit into the deepest shadow under the bed.

"I don't want it anymore."

"Why?"

"It came too late."

Elodie walked in with printed hospital call records.

She pushed a few pages in front of me, her face grim.

On the paper was printed a string of red text.

Declined.

He didn't not hear.

He declined seven times.