Chapter 186: Waiting
Brad couldn't resist me. After a moment of awkwardness, he leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Of course, I'm stoked you're coming back to me. I don't have to worry about pissing him off anymore, not even daring to hold your hands."
I knew this would be his answer, but hearing it from Brad still made me blush like crazy. My face turned red and hot as I buried myself in his arms, squirming around.
Brad cared about me so much.
Brad's body suddenly stiffened, becoming burning hot. He couldn't help but lean down to kiss me, but I quickly stopped him.
"Why not? You won't even let me kiss you," Brad breathed more heavily, staring at me, his fingers grazing my neck.
"No. It's just that Daniel has surgery tomorrow, and we should both get some rest. There will be plenty of opportunities for kisses later." I said softly, acting spoiled. He helplessly pinched my waist.
For some reason, he particularly liked my waist. He would hold it while walking, hug it while sitting together, and even in such a tender moment, he was pinching my waist.
"Be good. Once Daniel recovers and is discharged, you can end my probation and let me be your real boyfriend, okay?" Brad coaxed me gently, trying to set a condition.
I just smiled, making him pinch me again in frustration.
Daniel murmured in his sleep, turning his face towards us, his eyelashes trembling slightly.
We quickly fell silent, not daring to speak anymore.
The next morning, everyone got up early, busy preparing for Daniel's surgery.
Daniel lay quietly, as silent as a background, his previous happiness for recovery completely gone.
Everyone noticed his unusual behavior but attributed it to his anxiety about the new life ahead.
At nine o'clock, our two families, accompanied by medical staff, escorted Daniel to the operating room.
Just before entering the operating room, Daniel held my hand and said, "Jane, wait for me, don't leave."
His voice trembled, almost like a sob.
Of course, I wouldn't leave. I wanted to see his surgery succeed.
"Calm down, we'll all be waiting for you. No one will leave." I said, thinking that he wanted a promise from me. He was worried that once he recovered, I would leave him.
I couldn't be sure if his plea for me to stay meant what I thought. Regardless, I couldn't promise him anything. Once he recovered and returned to what he was, I wouldn't owe him anything, and everything would go back to normal.
The surgery took a long time, a full six hours.
We all stood outside while no one spoke, no one complained, and no one grew impatient. Louis and Mindy also came, patiently staying by my side.
We all shared the same hope, praying for the surgery's success.
After four hours, Timothy came out, looking slightly tired. He removed his surgical cap and looked at us calmly.
We all stood there like fools, not daring to approach. Each of us was filled with hope but also feared the outcome might not be what we wished for.
Louis was the first to step forward, extending his right hand. "Thank you for your hard work. The patient's family is very anxious. On their behalf, I'd like to ask, was the surgery," he paused, then continued, "successful?"
Timothy raised his eyebrows, tossing his surgical cap into a nearby designated trash bin, arrogantly saying, "I performed the surgery myself, how could it not be successful?"
Finishing talking, he strode away without looking back at us.
Louis came over to me, smiling, "Congratulations."
It took me a moment to realize the surgery was successful!
"Brad, the surgery was successful, right?"
"Yes, it was successful."
I was so pumped that I didn't care about the people around me. I jumped onto him, shouting, "That's awesome, it was successful, it was successful!"
Brad, afraid I might fall, clumsily protected me, laughing joyfully.
Helen scolded me to act more ladylike, then wiped her eyes and leaned on Ronan.
Emma was overjoyed, using Hugh's shirt to wipe her eyes. After a couple of wipes, however, she couldn't control herself and burst into tears on Hugh's shoulder.
Ever since Daniel's car accident, everyone seemed to act as usual, but the pressure we felt was immense. The fact that Daniel couldn't see or walk was like a heavy weight on all of us.
Even though everyone knew the situation and said to let things take their course, there was still regret. After all, Daniel used to be so outstanding.
Now, finally, he could see the light and walk again.
I was happy for him, for Brad, and even more for myself.
Daniel was sent to the ward, still lying quietly, looking like an angel fallen to earth, his hair shaved off again, his body covered in various tubes.
If he hadn't done so many things that made me hate him, he would indeed look like a pure, innocent angel.
Everyone stayed by Daniel's bedside, waiting to witness the moment of the miracle.
At nine o'clock at night, Daniel moaned slightly, making all of us, who were tired and sleepy from waiting, suddenly excited. We rushed to surround the bed.
The doctor came over, checked him, and said there were no issues with the surgery. His vision and legs would gradually recover, and he advised us to take good care of him.
To be honest, we were all disappointed when the doctor said that. In our minds, since the surgery was successful, he should at least be able to see all our faces the moment he woke up.
But that wasn't the case.
Disappointed, we had no choice but to wait.
For two whole days, we eagerly hoped Daniel would suddenly say he saw light.
But he never did. His eyes were mostly closed, and his legs lay weakly on the bed. If he didn't speak, we wouldn't know if he was awake or asleep.
Daniel grew more silent each day, and my heart sank with each passing day.
Brad asked the doctor several times, and the doctor always said that surgeries carry risks. No matter how skilled the expert, no one could guarantee a hundred percent success rate. He told us to observe and wait, saying that once the wounds fully healed, Daniel might see again.
Again with the "might" and the "wait."
But we had no other options.
I secretly cried several times out of anxiety, and Brad was also so worried as if he was on fire.
Seven or eight days passed in the blink of an eye. Daniel's scalp had grown some stubble, the wounds had healed very well, and his cheeks were gradually becoming rosy. But there was still no light in his eyes.
Brad and I went to see the doctor again. The doctor, who had always been very kind, suddenly changed his tune. He said that the surgery was performed by an outside expert, and the two assisting doctors from their department only handled the pre- and post-surgery preparations and cleanup. Now that the patient hadn't achieved the expected results, the hospital wouldn't take responsibility and told us to contact Timothy.
The doctor's words were harsh and irresponsible, but they made sense. He was telling the truth, albeit somewhat shamelessly.
If the surgery succeeded, it would be a typical case for the hospital to promote and enhance its reputation. If it failed, they would blame the expert, saying it had nothing to do with them.
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