Chapter 2
Colette couldn't see his face clearly.
She only heard him ask, "Colette, do you still hate me?"
Colette was stunned.
Did she still hate him?
She did right after the divorce. She hated how cold he was, the way his mother humiliated her, and how that marriage fizzled out without any real ending.
But now, she glanced at Wayne, a stranger she once knew so well, and smiled.
She did not answer the question. She wasn't trying to act all deep or aloof. She genuinely had no idea how to answer.
She didn't love him anymore, and she didn't even have the time to hate him.
There were more important people to love, more important things to do in her life.
Hating him was a luxury and was honestly too draining. She didn't have the energy for that anymore.
When Wayne saw her smile, his pupils seemed to contract sharply. He turned and walked away in a hurry, almost as if he was running away.
Colette's smile slowly faded. She walked over to the huge floor-to-ceiling window and watched as the black Bentley sped away, disappearing into the stream of traffic.
She stood there for a long time, until her legs started to go numb.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Colette answered, her voice instantly softening, "Hello, Alice."
"Colette, Teddy's got a high fever and he won't stop crying for you. You need to come home right now!" Alice said, her voice full of worry.
Colette's heart twisted, and her face drained of all color.
"Okay, I'll be right there!" She said urgently.
She snatched up her bag and rushed out of the postpartum retreat center like a whirlwind. She could not even stop to tell her supervisor.
It did not matter whether she hated Wayne or not.
Now, her whole world revolved around Theodore, the child she had nearly lost her life to bring into this world.
When Colette rushed home, her five-year-old son, Theodore Hale, was cradled in his nanny, Alice Wills's, arms.
His little face was burning red with fever, and he was mumbling "Mommy" over and over incoherently.
"Teddy!" Colette cried.
She hurried over and scooped him into her arms. His scorching body heat radiated right through his thin clothes, making her heart tremble.
"How did he get a fever all of a sudden? He was totally fine this morning," Colette said, her voice tight with worry.
Alice looked worried and felt responsible.
"I really don't know, Colette. He was fine this afternoon, just playing, and then suddenly he seemed off. When I touched his forehead, I got so scared," Alice said, her voice shaky.
Colette reached out and pressed her hand to her son's forehead. It was feverishly hot.
There was no time to waste.
"Alice, can you help grab our things? We're heading to the hospital right now," Colette said urgently.
"Alright!" Alice replied, moving quickly.
Fifteen minutes later, the taxi pulled up in front of Westville Pediatrician's Hospital.
The emergency hall was overflowing, packed with crying kids and anxious parents. The whole place was a boiling mess of noise and chaos.
Colette held her feverish son close, weaving through the crowd, registering, waiting in line, and anxiously waiting for their turn to be called.
Theodore whimpered in her arms, his tiny hands gripping her shirt with all his strength.
"Mommy, I don't feel so good..." Theodore murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Colette's heart twisted with pain. She could only keep kissing Theodore's burning forehead as she murmured gentle reassurances over and over.
"Hang in there, sweetheart. You'll feel better soon, I promise. The doctor will help us real soon," she whispered, her voice soft and comforting.
The wait felt endless. Every second dragged on, torturing Colette.
She stared at Theodore's flushed, feverish face and his dry, cracked lips, and suddenly, that desperate rainy night from six years ago flashed vividly in her mind.
That night, she had been burning up. Her stomach twisted in agony as she lay alone on the freezing apartment floor, barely conscious.
She thought she and the baby inside her were both going to die.
It was pure survival instinct that made her fumble for her phone and call for the ambulance.
In the ambulance, Colette had pleaded to the doctor with the last ounce of strength she had to save her baby.
Fortunately, Theodore pulled through and survived.
From that day forward, Theodore was her whole world, the only thing that truly mattered to her.
"Number 32, Theodore Hale!" Finally, the PA system announced her son's name.
Colette felt like she'd just been granted a reprieve. She rushed into the exam room with Theodore in her arms.
The doctor was a young guy with wire-rimmed glasses. He looked gentle and easy to talk to.
He gave Theodore a careful checkup, then asked Colette a few questions about his symptoms.
"It's acute tonsillitis. That's what's causing the high fever. It's looking pretty serious, so let's run some blood tests first. After that, we'll get him admitted and start him on an IV drip. He'll need to stay here for a few days so we can keep an eye on him," the doctor explained.
Hospital stay?
Colette's heart dropped straight to the floor.
She glanced at the amount on the payment slip, her brows furrowed tight.
Just last month, she'd nearly wiped out her savings to enroll Theodore in a good kindergarten.
Her paycheck for this month hadn't come in yet, and she didn't even have enough in her account for the hospital deposit.
Money. It was always money.
Six years since the divorce, she'd worked herself ragged, but money still kept pushing her to the edge.