Chapter 8

Victor's Pov

The hospital hallway feels suffocating, each sterile breath scraping against Victor’s lungs like sandpaper. He’s been pacing back and forth for what feels like hours, but the weight pressing down on his chest doesn’t lighten.

The scent of antiseptic hangs in the air, mingling with the distant hum of medical machines and the occasional hurried footsteps of nurses. But all Victor can hear are the echoes of his own regrets, bouncing relentlessly inside his mind.

Through the glass window, he catches a glimpse of Evelyn, his wife, surrounded by doctors and nurses.

They work urgently, their movements synchronized and efficient, but all Victor sees is her face contorted in pain, a stark reminder of the precariousness of their situation.

The doctors had mentioned placental abruption earlier—a serious complication that could risk both Evelyn’s life and their baby’s. Victor’s chest tightens at the thought; he can’t afford to lose them, not now.

He clenches his fists, his nails digging into his palms, grounding him in the present, even as his mind pulls him back to the past he’s been trying to outrun.

He remembers the day he walked out on Racheal—the finality of that moment. The way she had looked at him, her eyes wide and glistening, a mixture of disbelief and desperation that he can still see whenever he closes his eyes.

Inside, the doctors and nurses moved swiftly around Evelyn, their faces set in concentrated determination.

Dr. Morgan, a seasoned obstetrician with a sharp gaze and calm demeanor, hovered near Evelyn’s bed, checking the monitors that tracked her vitals.

Evelyn lay on the bed, her eyes half-closed, the bright fluorescent lights reflecting off her pale, clammy skin.

“Her blood pressure is still too high,” Dr. Morgan noted, his voice low but urgent. He glanced at the nurse beside him, who was jotting down notes on Evelyn’s chart.

“We’re not out of the woods yet. Prepare another dose of magnesium sulfate. We need to control this before it escalates further.”

Nurse Jamie nodded, her expression focused as she moved to the cart, preparing the medication. “Dr. Morgan, her heart rate irregular,” Jamie pointed out, eyes fixed on the monitor that displayed a series of erratic peaks and valleys. “Could it be placental abruption?”

Dr. Morgan’s jaw tightened as he studied the monitor, the steady beep of the machines now faster and more erratic.

“It’s a possibility, given the symptoms. But let’s not jump to conclusions just yet,” he replied, his tone measured but strained. He turned to Evelyn, his voice softening. “Evelyn, I need you to stay calm, alright? We’re doing everything we can.”

Evelyn nodded weakly, her breathing shallow and labored. She tried to speak, but only managed a faint whisper. “Is… the baby… okay?”

Victor’s breath caught in his throat. He pressed his palm against the cool glass of the window, feeling the chill seep into his skin, grounding him momentarily.

He wished he could burst into the room, hold her hand, and tell her everything would be alright. But right now, all he could do was watch helplessly as the medical team fought to keep his family safe.

“The baby’s heart rate is dropping,” another nurse said, her voice laced with concern as she monitored the fetal heart rate on the ultrasound screen. “It’s dipping below normal ranges. We might need to consider an emergency C-section.”

Dr. Morgan glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing. “We’ll give it a few more minutes. If we can stabilize Evelyn, the baby’s vitals might improve. But if there’s no change, we’ll need to act fast.”

Jamie nodded, her hands steady as she administered the medication into Evelyn’s IV. “Magnesium sulfate is in. We should see some improvement soon,” she said, her eyes darting between Evelyn and the monitors. “Hang in there, Evelyn. We’ve got you.”

Evelyn squeezed her eyes shut, her hand gripping the thin sheets as if holding on to the last thread of strength she had left. Victor watched, his chest tightening with each pained breath she took.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. They were supposed to be celebrating, preparing for the arrival of their child—not teetering on the edge of tragedy.

“She’s losing too much blood,” Dr. Morgan muttered, frustration creeping into his voice. “We need a transfusion ready. And alert the NICU. They need to be prepared in case we have to deliver.”

Victor’s knees felt weak. The walls seemed to close in on him, the weight of the doctor’s words pressing down on him with crushing force.

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands as if the slight pain would snap him back to reality, out of this waking nightmare.

As the minutes dragged on, the mood in the room grew tenser. Jamie moved with swift precision, wiping Evelyn’s forehead and adjusting her position to keep her as comfortable as possible.

Dr. Morgan continued his commands, his tone edged with urgency, but his actions were careful, controlled—this wasn’t his first high-risk pregnancy, but it was no less dire.

Victor could barely hold himself together. His mind kept drifting to the what-ifs, each thought darker than the last. He wanted to scream, to beg the doctors to do something, anything, to save Evelyn and their baby. Instead, he remained silent, gripping the door frame so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Suddenly, the machines let out a piercing beep, jolting everyone in the room. Dr. Morgan’s face hardened. “She’s crashing. Get the crash cart in here now!”

Victor’s heart plummeted. Nurses scrambled, their movements quick and frantic, as the room filled with a sense of urgency. Jamie moved to Evelyn’s side, adjusting the oxygen mask over her face, her voice a steady stream of reassurances that barely penetrated the chaotic atmosphere.

“Stay with us, Evelyn,” Dr. Morgan urged, his hands working quickly as he checked Evelyn’s pulse. “Come on, we’ve got you.”

Victor’s world blurred at the edges. He could barely register the medical terms flying around, the rapid exchange of syringes, the grim expressions that told him everything he feared. Evelyn was slipping away, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Then, almost as suddenly as it had started, the beeping slowed, the machines resuming their steady, if erratic, rhythm. Dr. Morgan let out a breath, wiping his brow. “She’s stabilizing. We bought some time.”

Victor felt his knees nearly buckle as relief and fear intertwined. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, as he watched Evelyn’s chest rise and fall with shallow breaths. The momentary reprieve didn’t erase the underlying danger; it merely postponed it.

Dr. Morgan turned to the team. “We need to keep monitoring her closely. This isn’t over yet. Let’s get her moved to ICU for closer observation. We need to keep her as stable as possible.”

The nurses nodded, setting to work with swift efficiency as they prepared to move Evelyn. Victor finally stepped back, knowing that, for now, he was only in the way. He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to compose himself as the reality of Evelyn’s fragile state sank in.

Evelyn’s eyes fluttered open, locking onto Victor’s. In that brief moment, everything else seemed to fade. She looked so fragile, so small, and Victor felt an overwhelming rush of love and fear crash over him.

“Victor…” she whispered, her voice weak but filled with all the emotions she couldn’t express.

Victor leaned closer, his voice breaking. “I’m here, Evelyn. I’m not going anywhere.” He squeezed her hand gently, his thumb tracing small circles over her cold skin. “We’re going to get through this. You, me, and our baby… we’re going to make it.”

Evelyn gave him a faint smile, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion. “Promise?”

Victor nodded, though every part of him was trembling. “I promise,” he said, knowing that he would do everything in his power to keep that promise, no matter the cost.

Just then, the door swung open, and Evelyn’s parents rushed in, their faces a mix of panic and anger. Karen hurried to Evelyn’s side, her eyes wide with worry, while Richard’s glare bore into Victor with a silent accusation. Victor stepped back, making room for them, feeling the judgment and tension thick in the air.

“What happened?” Karen’s voice trembled as she held Evelyn’s hand, her eyes darting between her daughter and the monitors. “Why didn’t you call us sooner?”

Evelyn’s father, Richard, stood with his arms crossed, his expression stern and unforgiving. “We should have been here,” he said, his voice laced with frustration. He looked at Victor, the unspoken blame clear in his eyes. “Where were you when this happened?”

Victor opened his mouth to respond, but Evelyn squeezed his hand, her eyes pleading for peace. “Mom, Dad, please… it’s not Victor’s fault. He’s been here the whole time.”

Karen’s face softened slightly, but the tension lingered. “Evelyn, you scared us. You need to rest, focus on getting better.” She glanced at Victor, her tone firm. “And you need to make sure she does.”

Richard finally spoke, his voice cold and direct. “We expect you to take care of our daughter, Victor. No more excuses. No more distractions.”

Victor nodded, swallowing the bitter taste of guilt that had been festering inside him. He looked back at Evelyn, his heart aching with the weight of everything her parents just said.

He knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but for Evelyn and their baby, he’d face whatever came their way.

Victor leaned closer, brushing a gentle kiss against Evelyn’s forehead. “I’m here,” he whispered, a promise that felt more like a desperate plea. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

As Evelyn’s parents continued to hover, voicing their concerns, Victor remained by her side, as he held her hands smiling at her. No matter the complications, no matter the doubts that clawed at him, he knew one thing for sure: he couldn’t afford to fail them. Not now. Not ever.

After Evelyn finally drifted off to sleep, Victor quietly slipped out of her room, careful not to disturb the fragile peace that had settled over her. As he paced around the hallway thinking. His mind crossed to Racheal.

Turning back towards the hallway, Victor spotted a nurse passing by. “Excuse me,” he called out, his voice carrying a hint of urgency. “Can I ask you about the woman who came in when my wife did? The pregnant one.Is she still here?”

The nurse glanced at him, recognition flickering in her eyes. She hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly. “Racheal? I’m sorry, sir, but she’s not in the hospital anymore. She left some time ago.”

Victor’s stomach tightened at the news. He wondered where she might have gone. Was the baby okay? Was she okay?

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. The nurse nodded politely and continued on her way, leaving Victor standing there, lost in his thoughts.