Chapter 5
The emergency room doors slammed shut with a loud bang, and the red light flicked on above them like a blade hanging over Heather' chest.
Her knees gave out, and she slowly sank to the cold, hard floor, her body trembling uncontrollably.
The chill from the rain still clung to her bones, but the trembling wasn't from the cold - it was pure, gut-wrenching fear.
That pale, lifeless look on Cherry's face before being wheeled in had hit her like a punch, yanking her straight back to another night six years ago that wrecked her all over again.
"Kieran, please... just let me explain - "
Heather clung to the sleeve of his coat, her fingers trembling, knuckles white. Tears blurred her vision, but she couldn't look away from the man she had just destroyed.
The courthouse hallway was silent - too silent. Cold fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead. Moments ago, the judge's gavel had slammed down like a death knell: three years.
He could've walked with probation.
Until she took the stand.
"Explain?" Kieran's voice was razor-sharp, slicing through the air as he yanked his arm from her grip. His eyes - those eyes that once held so much warmth - were now glacial, unforgiving.
"Explain how you sat there and told them I was the driver? How you watched me take the fall while your brother hid behind your silence?"
Heather's lips quivered. "My dad... he said if I didn't testify, he'd make sure you never made it out alive. He swore he'd pull strings inside. I was scared, Kieran. I didn't know what to do - "
"So you sacrificed me."
He let out a short, bitter laugh that held no humor, only hurt. "I loved you, Heather. I was going to propose to you after graduation. I had the ring. I had the whole damn plan."
He stepped in, cornering her against the wall. The distance between them vanished, but the chasm in their hearts had never been wider.
"Wanna know what I regret the most?" His voice dropped, low and dangerous. "Covering for your brother that night. I thought it was just a fender bender. I didn't know someone died. I didn't know he was drunk."
Heather's breath hitched. "You... you knew it was him?"
His jaw clenched. "Of course I knew," he hissed. "He came to me in tears, saying he couldn't go to jail, that it would ruin his future. And I - like a fucking idiot - thought, 'He's her brother. She'd never let me suffer for this.'"
He took a step back, like even breathing the same air as her was unbearable now.
"I was wrong."
A beat of silence passed before he delivered the final blow, voice devoid of emotion:
"We're done, Heather. Whatever we had - it's dead. Don't be anywhere near me when I get out. That's your only warning."
Her heart cracked - loud and ugly - like glass shattering underfoot.
She stood frozen, staring at his retreating back, knowing with bone-deep certainty that nothing could ever go back.
Not the love. Not the trust. Not the version of herself she used to be before she betrayed him.
"Miss Yates? Miss Yates?"
A gentle voice snapped her out of it. She looked up to see a young doctor in a white coat. His name tag read: Julian Griffin, Cardiothoracic Surgeon.
"Dr. Griffin, my daughter..."
"She's stable for now," Julian crouched down beside her, meeting her eyes. "But Miss Yates, Cherry's PDA really can't be delayed any longer. The best time for the surgery would've been around age three or four. She's already six. Why the wait?"
Heather lowered her head, voice barely louder than a whisper. "I just couldn't afford it."
Understanding flashed in Julian's eyes, and his voice softened even more. "We really shouldn't put it off anymore. A PDA like hers can lead to pulmonary hypertension - if it gets worse, it could push her into heart failure. Since she's already admitted, it's better to get it done this time."
Heather pressed her lips together, then gave a small nod. Half an hour later, the doors to the emergency room swung open again, and Cherry was wheeled out.
Her little face had regained some color. When she spotted Heather, she gave a weak, tired smile. "Mommy..."
Tears rushed to Heather's eyes. She hurried over and grabbed her daughter's tiny hand tight. "Baby, you really scared me."
A doctor nearby turned to Heather and said, "She's stable for now. Dr. Griffin probably already filled you in on the surgery. It's not too complicated, but it's not cheap either. You'd better talk it over with your husband."
Heather's eyes dimmed, and she nodded lightly. "Thanks, doctor. I'll think about it."
Later that night, Cherry fully woke up in the hospital room.
She blinked her big eyes, wrinkled her little nose, and sniffed. "Mom, why do you smell like alcohol?"
Heather froze for a second, then forced a smile. "Had a dinner with colleagues tonight, must've picked it up there."
Just then, Julian walked in carrying a thermal container. "Figured you two probably haven't eaten, so I brought some chicken soup and applesauce - easy on the stomach."
He set the food down on the nightstand, then pulled out a small tube of ointment. "Miss Yates, this is for your allergy rash. Should help it calm down faster."
It was only then that Heather noticed the red patches still faintly on her arm. She took the medicine from him, grateful. "Thank you so much, Dr. Griffin. Sorry for all the trouble."
"No trouble at all," Julian said with a gentle look in his eyes. "If you need anything, just let me know."
Heather lowered her gaze, pretending not to notice the meaning behind his words.
Julian was a good person. But she didn't want to misuse his kindness.
After he left, Cherry suddenly piped up, "Mommy, I think Dr. Griffin likes you."
Heather burst out laughing, playfully poking her daughter's nose. "You're too sharp for your own good. Do you even know what 'like' means?"
"Of course I do!" Cherry huffed, puffing her cheeks. "He looks at you just like I look at a chocolate cake!"
Heather couldn't help but laugh again. But then Cherry asked, "Mommy, do you still think about Daddy?"
Heather's heart suddenly sank. She kept her expression calm. "Mommy doesn't think about Daddy anymore."
Cherry sighed, sounding way older than six. "It'd be nice if he was still around. He would help you out."
Heather felt a sharp sting in her nose. She had lied to her daughter, saying Kieran had passed away after getting sick, just to avoid explaining the truth.
"Mommy, was Daddy good-looking? Is he more handsome than Dr. Griffin?" Cherry asked, full of curiosity.
Heather's mind instantly brought up Kieran's face - those sharp features, the slight upward curl of his lips when he smiled.
"He was very handsome," she said softly, almost unconsciously, her voice laced with a kind of warmth she didn't even realize was there.
After tucking Cherry into bed, Heather opened her mobile banking app and checked her balance.
Even after tonight's humiliating 43,000, she was still 70,000 away from saving her daughter's life.
She stared at the harsh numbers on the screen, yet deep down, she felt some measure of relief.
Relieved that at least Kieran had helped her in this way.
And, in the back of her mind, shameful as it was, she couldn't help but wish - if doing this again meant getting their daughter healthy, then maybe... just maybe... she hoped there would be a next time.
