Chapter 19
The next morning.
Harper woke up early, prepared to head to the Marriage Registry Office. The appointment was at 9:30 AM, giving her plenty of time. She decided to take the bus.
The night before, not feeling well, she skipped dinner with Molly and returned home to find the baby clothes she had bought were gone. Despite her attempts to contact the store, she couldn't retrieve them. It seemed someone else had already picked them up.
After disembarking the bus, Harper sent a brief message to Francis, "I'm here."
She noticed the last message she had sent him was before Chloe's return.
"Hubby, when will you be back?"
On the day she learned of her pregnancy, she had planned to share the news via text but later decided such news warranted an in-person conversation. Yet, in just two weeks, everything had changed.
Scrolling through their chat history, Harper noted it was predominately her reaching out, with Francis occasionally responding with a terse "Hmm."
Love, or the lack thereof, often revealed itself in the little things.
She deleted the chat history, determined not to dwell on the past.
Stepping forward, Harper was suddenly alerted by someone shouting, "Thief!"
Then, she felt a forceful shove. A shadowy figure zipped past, clutching a red bag, and charged forward.
Luckily, her quick reflexes allowed her to brace herself with her left knee, keeping her from falling.
A woman in a red dress was chasing someone, but she hadn't taken more than a few steps before her high heel twisted awkwardly, sending her crashing to the ground.
She looked up in pain, begging passersby for help. "Please, help me. There's medicine in there. It's life-saving medicine for the elderly."
The street was sparsely crowded, and despite her pleas, no one stopped.
Harper, witnessing the scene, sprung into action without a thought, shouting as she ran, "Stop! Thief!"
Her cries caught the attention of bystanders, causing the thief to panic. Cursing under his breath, he quickened his pace.
Harper was closing in fast, her background as a school track team star fueling her pursuit. She continued to yell, "Drop the bag! Stop the thief!"
Finally, rattled by Harper's relentless shouting, the thief made a wrong turn into a dead end.
In the next second, Harper was right behind him.
The young thief, a mop of blond hair matted to his forehead, was gasping for breath and swearing furiously. "Damn you, are you crazy? Chasing me this far!"
Harper looked at the blond youth, barely an adult, and urged, "Just put it down and turn yourself in. You have your whole life ahead of you. Don't take the wrong path."
"Fine, you come to get it." The thief tossed the bag at his feet, feigning surrender.
As Harper moved to pick up the bag, the blond youth suddenly whipped out a fruit knife, thrusting it viciously toward her.
"This is what you get for meddling!"
The sunlight flashed off the blade, but Harper reacted quickly, seizing the thief's shoulder and swiftly sidestepping.
Her move threw him off balance, and the knife narrowly missed her arm, clattering to the ground.
The thief, eyes red with madness, picked up the knife and lunged at Harper's throat.
For a moment, Harper's face went pale, a chill running through her body.
'Is this it? Is this where I die?'
But in a split second of peril, her hand shot out, gripping the knife tightly.
Blood trickled down her pale palm, drop by drop, forming a small, crimson stream.
For a moment, the young thief was stunned.
Maybe he hadn't expected her to do that. The knife in his hand suddenly became unbearably hot.
In the nick of time...
Bang!
A police officer arrived, kicking the blond youth to the ground.
Harper fell, too, sitting on the pavement, her body going limp with the shock of survival.
"Oh my God!" The woman in the red dress rushed over, kneeling to embrace Harper, tears welling up in her eyes.
Clutching the bag tightly, Harper passed it over, biting back pain, "Check... see if the medicine's still there?"
The woman in red quickly opened the bag and, with a surge of relief, exclaimed, "It's here, thank God. Don't talk now, child. We're going to the hospital."
The ambulance arrived at the hospital in no time. After examination, the doctor confirmed that, apart from a laceration on her arm and a cut in the palm of Harper's hand, there was nothing seriously wrong.
As the doctor began suturing, the woman in the red dress stayed close to Harper. Harper buried her face in the woman's arm, unable to watch the procedure. Needles and pain had always terrified her, making even minor discomfort feel unbearable. She clenched her teeth, enduring it silently.
Despite not coming from a pampered background, Harper had her fair share of sensitivities. And for her baby's sake, she lied about being allergic to anesthetics, enduring the stitching without any numbness. With each insertion of the needle, the pain sent shivers to her scalp, and tears cascaded down uncontrollably.
The woman's face was etched with compassion as if she wished she could take on the pain herself. When the doctor finally left, and Harper had a moment to collect herself, the thought of her pending divorce resurfaced.
'Francis wouldn't still be waiting, would he?' She hurried to reach for her phone, but her unharmed left hand failed her. Her phone fell and turned off upon hitting the ground. The woman quickly picked it up, urging in an anxious tone, "Sweetie, don't move. Let me do it."
During the drive, they had exchanged names—the woman was Abigail Hearts. "Abigail, could you dial a number for me?"
"Sure, tell me the number."
As Harper recited it, Abigail paused after entering it, asking, "Who is this to you?"
"My husband," Harper responded.
"Oh," Abigail handed the phone to Harper.
"Abigail, could you speak for me?"
In the past, a tiny injury would have Harper calling Francis, bursting into tears at the sound of his voice without even speaking. But now, she felt she had lost that right.
"What should I say?" Abigail agreed readily.
"Just tell him there's a delay, and I'll meet him at 2 PM at the Marriage Registry Office."
There was a slight hesitation from Abigail before she replied, "Okay."
The call went through quickly. Harper noticed that Abigail's accent on the phone was different from her normal speaking voice. She didn't catch everything said, but Abigail concluded with, "We're at City General Hospital."
After hanging up, Abigail's eyes crinkled with a smile. "Harper, you don't mind me taking the liberty, do you? I figured you had to give a reason for not making it."
"It's okay," Harper murmured, biting her lip, knowing that regardless of the explanation, Francis likely wouldn't care.
"Dear, are you getting married today?"
"No, I'm getting a divorce," Harper admitted plainly.
"Divorce?" Abigail gasped in surprise. "May I ask why?"
Harper gave Abigail a look, feeling that her concern was bordering on intrusive. After all, this was a personal matter.
Abigail chuckled, "Oh, Harper, don't mind me. I've been married and just think you're still so young. Every married couple hits a rough patch. You can't just act on impulse."
Harper couldn't help but force a bitter smile, seeing that Abigail indeed had her best interests at heart. "Abigail, it's my hubby who wants the divorce."
"Why in the world?" Abigail said, her tone laced with anger. "He must be blind to leave someone as beautiful and kind as you."
Harper was amused by Abigail's forthright support, feeling a warm comfort from the solidarity of a stranger she had just met.
"He's planning to marry someone else," she disclosed.
They chatted for a bit longer, and when mealtime came, Abigail excused herself to go grab a plate for Harper.
The room fell quiet, and leaning against her pillow, Harper finally felt her nerves relax and drowsiness set in.
Bang!
The door to the hospital room was suddenly flung open.
Harper jolted awake and glanced toward the door.
Francis stood at the doorway, his tall figure casting a shadow into the room. Dressed in black, he exuded a sense of nobility and grace, his posture straight and commanding.
He walked toward her against the light, radiating an aura that was both clean and captivating.
At that moment, Harper's mind short-circuited.
Remembering how close she came to death today made her heart feel heavy and sore.
Pain and grievance overwhelmed her.
She longed to say, just like she used to, "Francis, I'm in so much pain."
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