Chapter 129 She Woke Up
Robert pushed her unexpectedly. Molly's heel got caught in the door of the safety passage, and she staggered backward, falling on the cement floor.
The surroundings made a dull sound, which indicated Molly had fallen quite hard.
Just as Molly was about to curse, a delicate female voice came from outside.
"Robert, what are you doing here?"
It was Quinn's voice.
Robert withdrew his gaze from the door and looked gently at Quinn. "I came to see a friend. Why are you at the hospital? Are you not feeling well?"
Quinn faintly smelled a hint of perfume, like the scent of soap, and at this time, a barely noticeable cunning flashed in her eyes.
"My head is a bit dizzy, so I came to check it out."
She leaned against Robert, and he glanced at her as he said, "Tired?"
With that, he lifted her horizontally.
"It's crowded here."
Robert glanced at the closed door of the safety passage, and his evil thoughts resurfaced.
He said indifferently, "What's there to be afraid of? Who dares to say anything when I'm holding my wife."
Quinn hugged his neck and coyly said, "You're shameless."
Robert patted her hip and chuckled, "I've never seen you shy, even in more extreme situations."
Their voices gradually faded as they walked away, leaving Molly still sitting behind the safety passage and hugging her knees.
After the fall just now, her elbow and the back of her head were hit hard. It was too painful for her to get up.
It had only been a few days since the three years had passed, and she already felt it was very difficult to endure.
Although Robert promised not to marry within three years, she obviously wasn't the kind of woman who could openly stand by his side.
In front of his fiancée, she had to be prepared to be abandoned at any time.
Suddenly, the passage door was pushed open, and Molly muttered, "Why aren't you with your wife?"
There was silence on the other side. When she looked up, it wasn't Robert but a handsome young man in a white coat, holding a cigarette and looking at her inexplicably.
Molly quickly said, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay." The doctor looked at the cigarette in his hand, then at her, and silently put it away.
A man approached, and Molly couldn't just sit on the ground all the time. She stroked the railing, got up, and limped towards the door.
Just as she took a few steps but missed one, and just as she was about to fall, the young doctor held her. As soon as she steadied herself, he gentlemanly let go of her hands.
Seeing the scratches on her body, he assumed she had fallen and asked, "Do you need me to get you a wheelchair?"
Molly shook her head. "No, I can walk. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Not far away, Robert stood against the wall, watching Molly and the stranger in front of him, and his stiff cheeks were full of hostility.
She was indeed despicable and could almost flirt with men at any time.
A soft arm passed through his arm, and a gentle voice came. "Robert, we can go now."
Robert withdrew his gaze, turned around, and walked away with Quinn.
Harper had a long dream.
In the dream, on the vast white snow, a small figure stood with its back to her.
As if she was telepathic, Harper knew it was her baby.
She tried desperately to catch up, but her feet seemed to be locked in place and unable to move.
She opened her mouth to call her baby, but her throat seemed to be sealed, and she was unable to make a sound.
Despair overwhelmed her as she knelt on the ground, crawling forward.
The more she crawled, the further her child moved away.
She knelt there motionlessly and was humbly begging the small figure not to go any further.
She saw the child's footsteps stop, and in the vast whiteness, Harper heard the tender voice calling, "Mom. Mom."
Harper opened her mouth to respond, but she couldn't make a sound, only shouting in her heart.
"Baby, don't go."
She watched helplessly as the small figure walked further and further away until it disappeared into the snow.
Then, there was the cold clashing of iron tongs and people talking.
"Her child couldn't be saved. Deal with her uterus first, and then suture the other injured areas."
She shook her head desperately, pleading, "Don't take my baby away."
But no one listened to her. She felt someone using cold iron tongs to separate her baby from her body.
She felt like her heart was torn apart by a blunt knife, and icy tears flowed incessantly.
Gradually, the whiteness receded, and darkness engulfed all her consciousness.
Harper remained unconscious for four days.
In her dreams, she muttered and had a high fever, and tears streamed down her face.
When Wesley relayed the doctor's words to Francis, his still-healing heart was torn apart once again.
He looked like he had been hit hard and visibly haggard.
Seeing his state, Wesley hesitated for a bit and then handed Francis the paternity test result that Harper had asked him to do.
He said, "Harper asked me to do this. I don't know what misunderstandings you have, but I think you should trust Harper. She wouldn't betray you."
Francis looked at the test report, which showed a 99.99% genetic relationship.
His usually strong heart shattered into pieces in an instant.
Even though he later found out that the child was his, the impact brought by the paternity test result in front of him was even greater.
What had he done these days?
He doubted her, distrusted her, imprisoned her, and insulted her with words.
And at her time of greatest need, he casually said a few words, pushing her into the depths of despair.
His eyes were bloodshot, on the verge of tears, each gaze echoing with the weight of regret.
He thought he was truly a bastard.
During the days when Harper was still unconscious, Francis sat alone on a bench outside the intensive care unit, tortured by self-blame every minute and every second.
In addition to taking care of her father, Molly spent the rest of her time waiting at the hospital for Harper to wake up.
Seeing Francis' expression, she sneered.
He was pretending to be affectionate now, but in the past, he had been indifferent, which was truly ironic.
At one point, Victor came to see Francis and reported, "Ms. Musk has a wound infection and a fever. She's been insisting on seeing you."
Francis frowned and was about to speak when he was interrupted by a mocking laugh.
Across from him, Molly sat there. Seeing Francis glaring at her, she started mocking, "Mr. Getty, you should go. Your sweetheart can't bear the long waiting."
Francis' eyes were cold. Ignoring Molly, he instructed Victor, "Send the doctor to see her. I'm not a doctor."
"And you don't need to watch her either. Let someone else take care of her. Investigate what happened to Harper's accident and anything related to Chloe, and inform me if you find anything."
Victor nodded. He was eager to stay away from Chloe, too.
Just because Francis didn't see her, she was smashing things and throwing pillows in the ward.
He was truly relieved not to have to look at Chloe now and felt extremely liberated.
In the afternoon of the fourth day, Harper finally woke up after being observed all night, and the doctor transferred her to a regular ward.
When Francis received this news, his first reaction was not to see her immediately, but rather, he felt a bit timid.
He was afraid he couldn't win her back.
Seeing him like this, Wesley comforted, "Let someone she can accept go in to see her first. Wait for her to recover a bit more before you go in. She's not in a good state right now."
Wesley had intended to say that Harper couldn't handle any shocks right now, but seeing Francis’ bloodshot eyes, he couldn't bring himself to say those words.
He squeezed Francis's hands and said, "Listen to me. Wait a bit before going to see her."
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
