Chapter 3 - The Morning After
At 7:30 a.m., the morning shift arrived, bringing a surge of noise and light into the hospital.
I had changed out of my navy scrubs into a loose gray maternity sweater and black leggings, ready to drive back to my small one-bedroom apartment to sleep for twelve hours.
As I walked toward the main hospital exit, holding my coat around my shoulders, I saw them standing near the glass sliding doors.
Sophie was sitting in a wheelchair pushed by an orderly, wearing her bright pink winter coat over her hospital gown. Elias stood beside her, holding a bag of discharged medications and her school backpack.
When Sophie saw me, her face instantly lit up.
“Dr. Adelaide!” she called out, waving her good arm wildly.
I couldn't help the warm smile that spread across my face. I walked over to the wheelchair, kneeling down despite the stiffness in my lower back so I was at eye level with her.
“Good morning, sweetie,” I said gently. “How is that arm feeling today?”
“It doesn't hurt anymore!” Sophie announced proudly, holding up her blue cast. “Look! My daddy wrote his name on it first!”
I looked down at the smooth surface of the cast. In neat, black ink, Elias had written: Daddy loves you forever.
My chest tightened.
“That’s wonderful, Sophie,” I whispered, touching her small shoulder. “Now remember, no monkey bars for six weeks, okay? And make sure your dad helps you keep it dry when you take a shower.”
“I will!” Sophie promised. Then, she looked up at Elias, then back at my belly, her eyes wide with six-year-old curiosity. “Dr. Adelaide?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Is your baby’s daddy going to come home soon?”
The air in the lobby turned to ice.
Behind the wheelchair, Elias went rigid. The orderly suddenly became very interested in studying the ceiling tiles.
I swallowed hard, keeping my smile fixed on my face so Sophie wouldn't see the crack in my heart. “My baby’s daddy... lives in a different house, Sophie. But this baby is going to be very loved no matter what.”
Sophie frowned, her brow furrowing in genuine concern. “That’s sad. Everyone needs a daddy in their house. My mommy went to heaven when I was little, but my daddy stays with me every single day.”
She reached out with her small hand, resting her tiny palm directly against the side of my pregnant belly.
The moment her hand touched my coat, the baby gave a sudden, powerful kick right against her palm.
Sophie gasped, her eyes going wide as saucers. “He kicked! Daddy, look! The baby kicked my hand!”
Elias stepped forward involuntarily, his hand reaching out as if compelled by an invisible magnet. “He... he kicked?”
His eyes locked onto mine, filled with such intense, desperate wonder that I forgot how to breathe. For a second, he looked like he was going to drop to his knees right there in the lobby and press his face against my stomach.
“Elias, don't,” I whispered, stepping back out of Sophie’s reach.
The movement was small, but the rejection hit him like a physical blow. He pulled his hand back, his face darkening with sorrow.
“Thank you for saving my daughter, Dr. Adelaide,” Elias said, his voice quiet, disciplined, and painfully distant once again. “I will make sure the hospital board hears about your extraordinary care.”
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“That’s not necessary, Mr. Thorne,” I replied formally. “Have a safe drive home.”
He took the handles of Sophie’s wheelchair and pushed her out through the sliding glass doors into the cold morning air. I stood inside the warm lobby, watching them get into the back of a black chauffeur-driven sedan, feeling more alone than I had in seven long months.
