Chapter 1: He's my husband

“Still not answering?” Laera’s voice snapped Eloise out of her daze.

She shook her head, eyes glassy. “I’ve called him five times. He knows Alisha’s in the hospital, but he hasn’t even texted back.”

Laera frowned.“Your daughter has a high fever, and Mason can’t pick up the phone?”

Eloise wanted to defend him, but the words caught in her throat. Deep down, she’d felt it for months now. He wasn’t really here anymore. Not for her. Not for Alisha.

Her phone buzzed. A message from Mason.

**“In a meeting. Handle it. I’ll check later.”**

Laera snatched the phone and read it aloud. “Handle it?” she hissed. “Are you his assistant or his wife?”

Months ago, Eloise has handed over her entire company to him—her husband. It was supposed to be temporary, just while she focused on Alisha’s early years. He said he’d take care of everything. And she had believed him.

Behind her, Laera muttered,“If Mason’s not hiding something, I’ll eat my shoes.”

Before Eloise could defend Mason, a nurse rushed over. “Mrs. Cormac, the doctor needs to see you. It’s urgent.”

Eloise stood up at once. “What’s wrong with her?”

“We’re not sure yet. We’ll need bloodwork and scans. It could be a viral infection, or something else. Please stay close.”

The next hour passed in a blur of nurses, needles, and waiting. Eloise never left her daughter’s side. She tried calling Mason again. Voicemail.

Finally, the doctor returned. "What happened to Alisha is a genetic condition called Hereditary Fructose Intolerance, known as HFI," the doctor explained.

“HFI?,”Eloise looked from the doctor to Laera in surprise and turned back to the doctor, “I don't understand.”

“HFI is a rare genetic disorder where the body can't break down fructose, and if a baby with this takes solid food containing fructose or sucrose, it would cause severe abdominal pain, vomiting, and lethargy, just like we saw today.”

Eloise covered her trembling lips with her palm, her eyes welled up in tears, and her chest felt so heavy that Laera's pat on the back wasn't felt. Her eyes turned towards her child on the bed, and her heart broke.

“It's okay, Mrs Cormac,” the doctor said, “it is not life-threatening as long as it's been managed, and I'm sure you must be familiar with how that can be done.”

“Huh?” she glanced back at the doctor, and shook her head, “No, I'm not familiar.”

The doctor looked at her, surprised,“Don't you have the same diagnosis? Or is it your husband who has it?”

“No, doctor. We eat fruit and sugar all the time—no issues at all.”

“Well, that's strange, Is there anyone else in your family with a record of…?”

“Not at all,” she replied before the doctor finished,

“I'm surprised, Mrs Cormac, cause it is hereditary, and according to the test result, she got it from a close relative, either from the mother or the father.”

Everyone stared at one another. Eloise looked confused and surprised at how impossible the diagnosis was.

“You sure no one has this?”Laera asked,

“No one,”she insisted, then suddenly paused. A memory flickered.

“I know of someone, though, with the same intolerance.”

“Who?”the doctor asked,

“It's not possible to have gotten it from her, Tamara, she's my best friend from childhood, she's the only one around me with such.”

Dr. Monica and Laera glanced at each other. Monica sighed and made to speak when a fellow blonde-haired doctor strode into the room.

“Monica, are you busy?” she asked briskly.

“What is it?”

“I need your help with a five-month-old baby in Ward C,” the woman said.

“Please give me a few minutes.”

“Sure.” The doctor nodded and turned to leave—then froze, her eyes locking on Eloise.

“You…” she said slowly, as if making sure she wasn’t imagining it. “Mrs. Cormac?”

Eloise blinked, startled. Then her eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh my God… Dr. Glenda, you’re back!” She closed the distance and embraced her. Years seemed to collapse into that single moment.

“You two know each other?” Monica asked, clearly surprised.

“Yes!” Eloise smiled through the shock. “She was my doctor. She helped deliver my baby, then left for overseas that very night.”

“I’m sorry I had to go so suddenly,”Glenda said, guilt flashing in her eyes.

“It’s okay. You’re forgiven,”Eloise smiled warmly.

“So what brings you here?”Glenda asked.

“My baby got sick, so I brought her in.”

Glenda walked to the bed and looked at Alisha. Her eyes softened.“She’s beautiful. How old is she now?”

“Has it been that long that you don't remember the age of the baby you delivered?" Eloise teased, but Glenda's smile slowly faded, confusion and heartbreak hit her heart and facial expression.

“Wh. What do you mean by the baby I delivered?, she asked, her heart pounding.

Eloise chuckled mildly, looking at Glenda strangely, confused at her question and gradual change of attitude.

“Alisha, the baby you helped me deliver a year and a half ago.”

Glenda stepped back, looking between Eloise and Monica. Her hands started to sweat.

No. This wasn’t right. She did deliver a baby that night… but that baby didn’t make it.

“Are you feeling okay?”Eloise asked.

“Of course,”Glenda said quickly.

“Are you on any medication?”Glenda asked suddenly.

Laera and Monica exchanged a look.

“What kind of question is that?”Eloise asked, frowning. “Why are you acting weird?”

Glenda’s throat tightened. Her pulse raced. She couldn’t lie anymore.

She was certain, other nurses were there; she had witnesses, and there was no way she was mistaken.

“Are you okay? Dr. Glenda?”Dr. Monica asked worriedly, noticing her breathing raggedly.

She had managed to live past that night, that night that tormented her career for months, causing her fear every time she stepped into the delivery room. She couldn't have been mistaken about that night.

“Is everything okay…,”

“No,” she shook her head, managing to swallow as she felt a lump in her throat.

“I did deliver your baby,” she whispered. “But… that baby was stillborn. She didn’t make it, Mrs. Eloise.”

The room went dead silent.

The room froze.

Eloise blinked her eyes slowly, her body felt like stone. Her mind, worse. She glared at Glenda with her jaw tightened.

“Are you kidding me? Is this some sort of a joke?” she asked, her eyes blaring.

“Mrs Eloise, we've known each other for quite a while, and you know I have no reason to lie to you...”

Eloise furrowed her brow, shocked.

"No way! " Her heart started racing, and she parted her lips but found no words. All she could do was shake her head. “You must be mistaken. You know what? Just get out! Get out!” she ordered, her breath getting ragged.

“Let's all calm down,” Dr. Monica interjected, “There's one way to be sure. A quick DNA test.”