CHAPTER 128: CHAPTER 128: HOW DID WE END UP AS MORTAL ENEMIES?

The moment the doors to the operating room closed.

Nathaniel Gallagher’s tightly wound nerves suddenly snapped, and he staggered back two steps, his back colliding heavily with the cold wall.

The wound on his neck continued to bleed, yet he was oblivious to it. He simply stared fixedly at the tightly shut door, eyes swirling with unprecedented panic.

"President Gallagher, your neck needs attention too." A nurse hurried over, carrying an emergency kit, her voice laced with cautious worry.

Nathaniel waved the nurse’s hand away, his voice hoarse as if rubbed by sandpaper: "Get out."

The nurse dared not say more, and silently retreated to the side.

"Josephine, you can’t be hurt."

"As long as you’re safe, I... I’m willing to let go."

Time ticked away, bit by bit.

Nathaniel sat dejectedly and heavily on a bench, his spirits dull and downcast.

The wound on his neck had crusted over with blood, staining a large patch of his white shirt.

His hands were also covered in dried blood.

...

An hour passed.

The light outside the operating room finally flicked off.

"Doctor, how is she?"

The chief surgeon pushed the door open and came out, removing his mask, his face serious: "Mr. Gallagher, fortunately, she was brought here in time. The wound didn’t affect the trachea or major arteries, but she lost a significant amount of blood and needs to be hospitalized for observation. Additionally..."

The doctor paused, looking at Nathaniel’s pale face, "The patient’s emotional state is extremely unstable and may react poorly post-operation. It’s best not to agitate her."

Nathaniel’s heart sank abruptly, and he grabbed the doctor’s arm: "When will she wake up?"

"She should wake up after the anesthesia wears off, but she’ll be weak and needs rest."

Shortly after.

Four nurses wheeled a hospital bed out from the room.

Josephine Thompson lay on the bed, her face as white as paper, lips devoid of color, her neck wrapped in thick bandages, faintly stained with blood.

Nathaniel quickly stepped forward, wanting to touch her, but his hand recoiled midair, terrified of disturbing her.

"Arrange the best VIP ward," he ordered hoarsely, his gaze unwaveringly following the bed’s movement.

"Rest assured, President Gallagher."

Soon.

The nurses wheeled Josephine into the ward, fitted her with an oxygen mask and IV fluids.

Inside the ward.

The machines emitted a regular ticking sound.

Nathaniel sat by the bedside, watching Josephine’s sleeping face, his fingertips gently brushed against her cheek, his movements uncharacteristically tender.

The wound on his neck had been attended to, swathed in bandages, yet couldn’t dull the ache deep in his heart.

"... Darling, how did we end up in such an irreconcilable state?"

He recalled her resolute gaze as she brandished a toothbrush at him, remembered her faint breath as she lay in his arms.

His heart couldn’t help but ache, as though gripped tightly by an invisible hand, the pain nearly suffocating him.

"Josephine, do you hate me that much?"

He murmured in a low voice, his words tinted with a vulnerability he himself was unaware of, "Hate me enough to rather die than stay by my side?"

The only response was the monotonous ticking of the machines.

An hour passed again.

Josephine finally awoke.

"Cough ~"

She moved her fingers, the tearing pain in her throat eliciting a muffled groan.

"Awake?"

Nathaniel immediately leaned forward, the red veins in his eyes clearly visible, "How do you feel? Do you want some water?"

Josephine opened her eyes drowsily, her mind a haze.

She stared at him blankly.

A brief bout of amnesia made it difficult for her to recall what had happened.

Nathaniel’s body stiffened, the light in his eyes dimming bit by bit, "Josephine, don’t be so impulsive again, don’t do anything foolish..."

Josephine listened, then slowly closed her eyes, no longer looking at him.

Even if she couldn’t remember what happened.

She didn’t want to see him.

Nathaniel’s throat felt blocked, he gently stroked her hair, "Then rest well, I’ll stay by your side."

"Buzz buzz buzz..."

The phone vibrated continuously.

Nathaniel took out his phone and glanced at it; it was Eleanor Churchill calling.

"Buzz ~"

Annoyance and confusion welled up within him.

Not wanting to answer, he silenced it and put the phone back in his pocket.

Ten minutes later.

Eleanor sent another message:

[Nathaniel, will you come over tonight? I’ve cooked dinner for you.]

Nathaniel hesitated for half an hour, then replied to her:

[I’m busy tonight, won’t come over, you should rest early.]

Eleanor received the message, and didn’t call again.

As he was about to put the phone away.

"Buzz buzz buzz..."

The phone vibrated frantically again.

Evelyn Thorne sent him several messages:

[Mr. Gallagher, I’ve dry-cleaned your coat, when will you come to pick it up?]

[Or, I could personally deliver it to you.]

[I haven’t properly thanked you yet, don’t ignore me...]

Evelyn remained persistent.

These days, she consistently sent messages daily.

Nathaniel would occasionally take a look, but mostly chose to ignore them.

However...

Some people really have that clingy nature.

The more he ignored her, the more persistent she became.

...

PM.

Mrs. Gallagher was also calling Nathaniel Gallagher nonstop.

"Hello, Mom, what’s up?"

When the call connected, a frantic and impatient voice from Mrs. Gallagher came through, "Nathaniel, what’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you answering your phone?"

Nathaniel Gallagher frowned, "Is there something wrong?"

Mrs. Gallagher was in a flurry, "Have you lost your mind? You’re always glued to that old woman Eleanor Churchill, ignoring everything else."

"Henny has a high fever now, it’s almost making him delirious. Haven’t you heard the dozens of calls we’ve made to you?"

Hearing this, Nathaniel Gallagher’s heart sank, "Is Henny sick?"

"Yes, his fever has reached 39°C."

"Then quickly bring him to the hospital!"

Mrs. Gallagher huffed, "We’re getting ready to go to the hospital now. I just wanted to call you and ask if you don’t even care about your son anymore?"

Nathaniel Gallagher: "Mom, I’m at the hospital now too, quickly have someone bring Henny to the hospital!"

Mrs. Gallagher: "You’re at the hospital too? What’s wrong with you?"

"Don’t ask so many questions, just hurry and bring Henny to the hospital."

The call ended.

Nathaniel Gallagher abruptly stood up, looking at Josephine Thompson on the hospital bed, his eyes filled with anxiety.

On one hand was her, whom he had just snatched back from the brink of death, and on the other was his son burning with fever, he couldn’t let go of either.

"Josephine, I’ll go check on Henny and be back soon." He bent down to tuck her in before getting up to leave the ward.

Josephine Thompson kept her eyes closed, not responding, her eyelashes trembling slightly.

At the same time, a pain started twisting deep in her heart again.

Henny was a child she gave birth to through great hardship, a piece of her heart taken from her own body.

However, he wasn’t actually her child.

Every time she thought of this, she really wanted to cut Nathaniel Gallagher into pieces to quell her hatred.

How could he be so vicious and malicious?

Nathaniel Gallagher, in a panic, turned and quickly walked out of the ward.

Just as he reached the hallway, he ran into his hastily arriving assistant, "President Gallagher."

"Go, get a few of the most reliable bodyguards to guard the ward door, don’t leave the spot. Also, find a few professional caregivers to look after the lady inside."

"Yes, President Gallagher."

Nathaniel Gallagher strode towards the elevator, hurrying to pick up the child.

The numbers in the elevator slowly descended, like a hammer striking his tense nerves.

He had never felt time pass so slowly, until the elevator doors opened, and he almost ran towards the emergency entrance.

From a distance.

Mrs. Gallagher was in front, holding Henny, standing at the triage desk, while the little boy’s face was flushed from the fever.

Henry Gallagher lethargically leaned against the servant’s arms, muttering nonstop, "Mommy, mommy..."

Where is she...

Sometimes, it’s only through comparison that one can discern what is good or bad.

Previously, Henry Gallagher wasn’t close to Josephine Thompson at all and always wanted a different mommy.

But after actually getting a new mommy, he began to miss the old one.

Especially.

Ever since the new mommy placed him on the railing, he had been scared out of his wits, and started to hate the new mommy even more.

"Henny!" Nathaniel Gallagher rushed over and took his son.

Touching his burning skin made his heart clench, "How is he?"

"The doctor just measured his temperature, 39.2°C, and said they’ll need to run tests, it might be pneumonia."

"How did he suddenly get so sick?"

Mrs. Gallagher looked at the bandage on Nathaniel’s neck, her brows furrowed, "Nathaniel, what happened to you? Did you get into a fight?"

"I’m fine."

Nathaniel Gallagher carried Henny and rushed into the emergency room, his tone urgent, "See to the child first."

At the emergency room.

Examinations, blood tests, IV fluids...

After a series of procedures, Henny finally fell asleep under the effect of the medication, his small face still flushed with fever.

Nathaniel Gallagher stayed by the bedside, looking at his son’s chapped lips, his heart clogged with emotion.

This child wasn’t always close to Josephine Thompson, only clinging to her when he was sick.

Suddenly he remembered when Josephine Thompson had just given birth to Henny. Holding the little bundle, she smiled so brightly and gently.

Back then, the light in her eyes was brighter than the stars.

When did everything start to change?

Suddenly, he felt deeply regretful...

"Nathaniel, what’s really wrong with you?" Mrs. Gallagher sat nearby, looking at his tired face, full of worry.

Nathaniel Gallagher said nothing, only stared at Henny’s face, his gaze complex.

AM.

Henny’s temperature finally dropped a bit.

Nathaniel Gallagher tucked him in properly, stood up and said to Mrs. Gallagher, "Mom, you stay here, I’m going to check on Josephine."

Mrs. Gallagher was shocked, "Josephine is at the hospital too? What’s wrong with her?"

"It’s nothing, don’t worry about it."

Mrs. Gallagher was furious, "You don’t let me handle anything or inquire about anything. Do I even exist in your eyes as your mother? You got a divorce without a word."

"Josephine is such a good wife, and you don’t want her. Instead, you choose to be with an older and disabled woman. What are you thinking? Are you out of your mind?"

In the past, she would constantly criticize Josephine Thompson as her daughter-in-law, always complaining that her son married and forgot his mother.

Well, now.

Her son and daughter-in-law were really divorced.

Divorce might be bearable.

But to marry another woman as her daughter-in-law, one that she completely disapproved of.

"Mom, please stop talking, I’m already troubled enough."

Mrs. Gallagher fumed, "Fine, fine, I won’t say anymore. Where’s Josephine? I want to see her."

"She’s heartless enough, hasn’t visited Henny once since the divorce."

"I’ve truly never seen a woman as heartless as her who abandons her own child."

"..." Nathaniel Gallagher felt a lump in his throat and couldn’t say a word.

He hadn’t even mentioned to his mom that Henny was his and Eleanor Churchill’s child.