[Husband’s Birthday Countdown: 7 Days]
The phone screen lit up as a notification popped up. Leah Sinclair was currently carrying a large cardboard box, searching all over the house for a place to hide it. This was a custom-made birthday gift she had ordered two months in advance; she wanted to give Kian Hawthorne a surprise.
Leah lay on the floor, peering under the bed in the master bedroom. In the corner under the bed sat a tiny white capsule.
She reached underneath, pulled it out, and placed it in her palm. The capsule was small, a size smaller than a standard cold medicine capsule, with a smooth surface and no writing. She turned it over and over for a long time; she had never seen anything like it. Taking out her phone, she snapped a picture of the capsule and opened an AI image recognition app. The moment the results popped up, she froze.
"Women’s topical contraceptive capsule. Contains spermicide. Can be used as an alternative to condoms."
Leah stared blankly at those lines of text, her mind going completely blank. She had never bought such a thing. They had been married for two years, and she hadn’t even consummated the marriage. Kian was either working or away on business all day. Even when he came home, he always looked exhausted and never touched her.
Clutching the capsule in her palm, Leah spaced out for a long time, unaware of what she was even thinking.
RING RING RING! Her phone suddenly blasted, snapping her back to reality.
Aunt Jane Summers was crying on the other end of the line. "Leah! Come to the hospital right now! Uncle Quentin fainted! The doctor says he needs emergency resuscitation immediately!"
Outside the operating room at Aethel Hospital, a subsidiary of Hawthorne Corporation.
"Family of Quentin Sinclair! Is the family of Quentin Sinclair here?"
A nurse’s voice rang out from the end of the corridor, sharp and urgent. Leah ran over. "Here, I’m here."
"The patient has pancreatic cancer. The situation is critical, and he needs immediate surgery." The nurse handed over a piece of paper. "This is the surgical consent form. Please sign it."
BUZZ. A sharp ringing echoed in Leah’s mind. As a medical student, she knew very well that pancreatic cancer was the king of cancers. It had no obvious warning signs, and eighty percent of patients were already in the middle to late stages by the time symptoms appeared.
When she was twelve, her parents had died in an accident, and she was faced with a similar piece of paper. She had been too young, so helpless that she couldn’t even write her own name properly. On that day, Uncle Quentin had signed that paper for her. After signing it, he picked her up and said, "Don’t be afraid, Leah. I’m here."
Leah tried several times, but her hands were shaking so violently that she couldn’t sign. She took out her phone and scrolled to Kian’s number. The phone rang for a long time before it finally connected.
"What is it?" Kian’s voice was faint, making it sound as if she shouldn’t have called to bother him.
The background noise on the call was loud and chaotic. There were voices, music, and... the sound of fireworks? BOOM, BOOM. Muffled explosions echoed, one after another.
"Uncle Quentin is in emergency resuscitation. It’s pancreatic cancer. Can you come? I’m all alone—"
"I’m away on business."
Four words, crisp and decisive.
"Have Ash go over."
"Ash isn’t in Florian right now, he—"
"Then handle it yourself." His tone grew impatient. "I can’t get away right now."
The call disconnected. BEEP BEEP BEEP. The busy signal echoed in her ear.
Leah stood in the corridor, gripping her phone. A television in the nearby waiting area, turned on by someone unknown, was broadcasting the news.
"...The centennial fireworks display celebrating the founding of Portshire is currently being held in spectacular fashion above Queen’s Harbour..."
She looked up. On the TV screen, the night sky over Queen’s Harbour was illuminated by fireworks. The camera panned across the observation deck, showing a dense crowd of people before suddenly zooming in. A man and a woman stood by the railing, fireworks blooming right above them.
The man was wearing a dark gray overcoat, standing side-by-side with a woman who had a beautiful silhouette from behind. They were both looking up at the fireworks. That man was Kian. Her husband. The woman beside him was Selene Shaw, his first love. His so-called "business trip" was actually accompanying Selene to Portshire to watch the fireworks.
Leah stared at the screen, utterly motionless. He was holding another woman under the fireworks, right in front of the whole world.
"Family member! Sign here!" The nurse came out again.
Leah looked down at the consent form, her hand still shaking. She grabbed her right wrist with her left hand, suppressing the damn trembling, and wrote the final stroke. The letters were still crooked, but they were legible.
Three days later, in the director’s office.
"Regarding Mr. Sinclair’s condition, the current standard domestic treatment plans haven’t yielded ideal results." Director Rowe paused. "Country A released a new drug last year with excellent clinical data. I heard their president is even using it, but you need connections to get your hands on it."
Halfway through his sentence, Leah’s knuckles tightened.
Director Rowe added with a hint of deference, "Mrs. Hawthorne, Mr. Hawthorne should be able to get the medicine, right?"
Beside her, Ash frowned.
Leah nodded, her voice very soft. "Yes, I’ll talk to him about it."
"That’s good, that’s good. With Mr. Hawthorne stepping in, there will definitely be no problem."
As they walked out of the office, the door closed behind them, though not completely.
"Director, what did you just call her?" an assistant’s voice leaked through the crack in the door.
"You don’t know her? She’s the eldest daughter-in-law of the Hawthorne family, Mr. Hawthorne’s wife."
"So young? Then why is her uncle in a regular ward?"
"Shh," the director lowered his voice. "Don’t go snooping into the affairs of prominent families."
Ash halted his steps and grabbed Leah’s arm. "Leah, I don’t want you to lower your head and beg him."
"Ash." Leah smiled. "What do you mean by begging? He’s my husband."
Ash just looked at her.
"Ash, go check on Uncle Quentin first. I’m going to make a phone call."
Leah walked over to a public area to call Kian. But just as she pulled out her phone, she suddenly froze. She was on a second-floor overlooking platform, staring straight down at the entrance of the inpatient department on the first floor. A black Bentley had just parked there. Several hospital administrators in suits were standing respectfully by the door, and one of them even ran up to open the car door.
A man and a woman stepped out of the car. The man was extraordinarily handsome, possessing the chiseled, high-class features of a movie star. The woman’s bright and beautiful face showed traces of illness, making her look even more pitiful. Kian carefully supported the sickly Selene as they walked quickly through the first-floor lobby and stepped into the glass sightseeing elevator.
The elevator ultimately stopped at the floor for the VIP ward.
Leah entered another elevator and pressed the button for the exact same floor. The numbers ticked up one by one. The VIP ward was incredibly quiet. The carpets were thick, muffling all footsteps. One of the hospital room doors was left ajar, and voices drifted out from within.
Through the crack in the door, Leah saw Kian bustling about by the bedside, completely devoid of the cold hardness typically expected of a billionaire CEO.
Selene leaned against the headboard and gently chided him, "Kian, it’s just a little cold and fever. You don’t need to exaggerate like this."
"When was your last physical exam? Take advantage of this hospitalization and get a full-body checkup done. I’ll stay with you."
Selene lowered her eyes, the corners of her mouth curving into a smile.
Kian handed her a cup of milk tea with a straw already inserted. "I just warmed it up. It’s not too hot."
Leah remembered a time when she had finally managed to convince him to go shopping with her. She had wanted to drink milk tea, but he just shot her a look of disdain.
"How old are you? You’re still drinking kids’ drinks?"
Back in the hospital room, Kian walked over to a corner and bent down to press his hand against a small bed that could only fit one person. "This is the escort bed? I’ll sleep here tonight," he said.
"Don’t stay here with me all night... She’ll be unhappy," Selene mumbled hesitantly.
"I already told her I’m on a business trip tonight."
BUZZ. Leah’s phone suddenly vibrated. She looked down and saw that her finger had accidentally brushed the call button at some point.
Kian’s phone rang inside the room. He picked it up, glanced at it, and hung up.
Selene asked softly, "Is she looking for you? You should go back."
"What could she possibly need?" Kian slipped the phone back into his pocket. "It’s just a kid begging for attention."
"A kid?"
"She’s just someone the old lady forced on me. She doesn’t know anything, and I have nothing to say to her."
Leah turned around and walked away numbly.