The Delivery Room Encounter

The nurse nearby handed Nathan Lloyd the surgical consent form. "We need a family member to sign the papers before the operation. What's your relationship with the woman in labor?"

Nathan took the pen and signed with trembling hands. "She's my wife."

A lump formed in my throat when I heard it. The image that flashed through my mind was of Nathan smiling and handing me our marriage certificate a month ago. "Jaime Sterling, we're a legally married couple from today on."

As if sensing my stunned expression, Nathan looked up in confusion with his red eyes.

I quickly lowered my head and adjusted the mask over the bridge of my nose to conceal my emotions. Turning around, I pushed open the doors to the operating room. "We'll do everything we can for the patient."

I guessed our relationship was completely over.

After a round of rescue, the mother's condition was relatively stable, and the atmosphere in the operating room became more relaxed.

My colleague beside me whispered to me, "I heard these two got into this mess because they got a little too carried away in bed. The mother is near her due date, yet her husband doesn't seem to be able to control himself. Young people nowadays are really reckless when it comes to romance..."

My hand movements slowed down for a few seconds. The image of Nathan begging at the operating room door just now gradually merged with the Nathan who had gotten down on one knee to propose to me. "Jaime, marry me. I will never touch another woman but you!"

On our wedding night, he carefully helped me put back on each piece of clothing I had taken off, his expression filled with pain and struggle. "I'm sorry, Jaime. I swore at my mother's grave to observe three years of mourning for her. This is the third year. Wait for me a little longer."

I believed him. What I got in return was fighting to save his unborn child.

I gave a mocking smile. It turned out that not touching me was not about observing propriety; it was simply because he did not love me.

The operation concluded quickly and successfully. I held the newborn in my arms. She was not heavy, but her weight pressed against my chest.

When I opened the operating room door, Nathan immediately stood up and rushed over. His bloodshot eyes were filled with barely suppressed worry and anxiety. "How's Viola?"

Viola Harland was the name of the woman in labor on the medical record. Nathan had introduced her as his wife. She was a stranger to me. He had never mentioned her to me before.

I handed the baby to him and said, "Congratulations, the surgery went smoothly. Both mother and daughter are safe."

Nathan's tense expression visibly relaxed, and his gaze toward me was filled with unfamiliar gratitude. "Thank you, doctor. May I ask your name?"

With my cap and mask covering most of my face, Nathan failed to recognize me.

I stared into his eyes, trying to detect a hint of guilt. "My last name is Sterling. Just call me Dr. Sterling."

Nathan frowned and was about to say something more when Viola was wheeled out on a stretcher from behind me.

"Nathan..." She lay on the bed, looking unusually weak.

He immediately pushed me aside and rushed to her. He held the baby in one arm and Viola's hand in the other, his tone gentler than I had ever heard before.