Chapter 21 The Truth Emerges?
Emma was already fading out, her eyes blank and just mumbling, "George..."
George clung to Emma, his heart pounding with worry. She looked so pale, trembling like she might just drift off any second. His heart ached, wishing he could take all her pain away.
"Emma, don't sweat it, I'm right here," he whispered, his voice dripping with tenderness and concern.
Emma barely opened her eyes, catching a glimpse of George's worried face. She forced a weak smile, "George, I'm okay."
"Okay? You're hurt," George's voice shook, eyes full of worry. "I'm taking you to the hospital, you'll be fine soon."
Anna was floored. Hearing their convo and seeing George's sudden change, she got it.
No way, she had to stop George from figuring out who Emma was.
As Anna schemed, she saw George carrying Emma straight to the hospital.
On the way, his mind was flooded with memories of meeting the girl in his childhood. Those fleeting, peaceful moments kept flashing through his head.
George's heart was racing. He even forgot he was supposed to hate Emma, not rush her into the ER like this.
She said she was pregnant with his kid, but now his shirt was soaked with her blood.
George felt a crushing weight on him, making it hard to breathe. For the first time, he desperately hoped Emma would be okay.
"Emma, you gotta be okay," he whispered, his voice shaking.
Outside the ER, George waited anxiously, praying non-stop. Finally, the doc came out, looking at George with a scowl.
"You a a family member? What's your deal with her?"
"She's my wife."
The doc already pegged George as a domestic abuser. How else to explain her injuries?
The doc snapped, "What kind of husband are you? She's pregnant, went out in the rain, got hurt. Now she's weak, and there's internal bleeding. Whether the baby makes it is up to fate!"
George's heart sank, filled with endless guilt. He could barely breathe, a heavy weight on his chest.
"I'm sorry, I really didn't know," he muttered, apologizing over and over.
"What's the point now? I've seen guys like you, get drunk, hit people, then regret it. Why didn't you think of that earlier?" The doc kept ranting until a nurse from the OR came out and tugged his sleeve.
"Dr. Parker!" The nurse's warning was clear. Dr. Parker had scolded families like this before. He waved her off.
"Fine, I'll stop," Dr. Parker glared at George and turned to leave. But after a few steps, still pissed, he threw out, "If she needs, I'll report you to the cops!"
"No, I'll be good to her," George's tone was firm, like a promise to himself. He'd never let Emma get hurt again.
After surgery, Emma was in a VIP room. Fresh out of surgery, she was cold all over, but her hands were warm, comforting.
Emma fell into a deep sleep, the first real rest she'd had in days.
Sitting by the bed, George looked at Emma's pale face, holding her cold hand, his heart full of pain and regret.
George thought, 'Emma, please wake up. Tell me, are you the girl from my childhood? How did you know about the promise I made back then?'
He sat there all night, until the sunlight hit him, and Emma slowly woke up.
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