Chapter 10
Ambulance lights crisscrossed through the darkness as Tim clenched Patricia’s hand, his knuckles whitening from the force.
Shirley curled on the stretcher, her pale cheeks etched with panic.
Mr. and Mrs. Campbell anxiously hovered nearby, monitoring her condition vigilantly for any sign of discomfort.
“Why aren’t we there yet? How much farther to the hospital?”
Timothy eyed the string of red lights ahead, urgency tightening his voice as he pressed the driver.
A sudden cough rattled through Patricia in his arms. Timothy leaned down to cradle her, gently patting her back.
“Don’t be scared. We’re almost there.”
Patricia’s red–rimmed eyes drifted over the three figures beside her.
“Timothy… Mom, Dad… I thought I’d never see you again,” she whispered, voice fraying.
“I was so terrified…”
Mrs. Campbell’s heart ached terribly. Her hand smoothed over Shirley’s trembling back.
“How about… letting Timothy and Shirley divorce. You two should be together, we all support it.”
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“And Shirley should wake up to reality too.” Mrs. Campbell sighed as she spoke.
Before the words faded, Patricia shook her head vehemently.
“Don’t… Sister will be heartbroken… I may love Timothy, but I don’t want to hurt her.”
Timothy’s throat tightened.
Watching Patricia, weak as she was, still putting others first, a dull ache spread through his chest.
“Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, I’ll talk with Shirley tomorrow.”
He clasped Patricia’s hand.
“Patricia deserves better.”
Mr. Campbell heaved a long sigh but ultimately didn’t object.
After all, his adopted daughter had just survived a life–threatening ordeal. Granting this small wish seemed only fair.
Thirty minutes later, the ambulance had barely stopped at the
emergency building when an impatient Timothy rushed inside carrying Patricia.
He only slumped onto a bench after she was wheeled into the
examination room.
Pulling out his phone, he scrolled. Shirley’s name lit up the lock screen. Timothy tapped the call button.
“Yeah?” Shirley’s voice came out hoarse.
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Staring at the closed operating room doors, Timothy dug his nails deep into his palms.
“Let’s get divorced.”
Dead silence hung on the line until a soft chuckle finally came through.
“You’ve wanted this for a long time, haven’t you? Even if it’s for Patricia. Is this what she wants?”
“Enough!” Timothy crushed the paper cup in his hand.
“Can’t you just treat Patricia like a sister? She’s been thinking about you all this time.”
“And with Patricia in this state, what more doubts could you possibly have?”
As the ER doors swung open, Timothy shot to his feet, his phone clattering to the floor.
Patricia lay on the hospital bed, her face still unnaturally pale. A faint smile touched her lips when she saw him.
“Did you… talk with Shirley? Was I too selfish…”
“Don’t dwell on that.”
Timothy gently pressed her hand.
“Let’s get married once you’re discharged, okay?”
His phone suddenly vibrated. A message from Shirley appeared, stark and brief:
“I agree to the divorce.”
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Staring at those sparse words on the screen, Timothy felt an inexplicable emptiness wash over him.
How could she agree so quickly? Wasn’t she always crazy about him?
Timothy couldn’t wrap his head around her reaction now. This wasn’t how she should’ve responded at all.
After all, everyone knew Shirley was head over heels for him. Had she fallen out of love?
The possibility made Timothy’s face darken.
He pulled out his phone and sent another question mark.
One second later came a ding–dong–not her instant reply, but the sound of a rejected receipt.
She always replied instantly. Was she hurt today? Or still furious?
Timothy felt something was off for no reason, but he couldn’t tell what it was.
His restless heart grew more impatient, and he could only force himself not to think too much.
The most important thing now should be taking good care of Patricia.
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