Semua Bab Five years later, My Billionaire Ex-husband wants me back: Bab 41 - Bab 50

Janet"Dr. Laura, please," I begged, the air freezing in my lungs. My fingernails dug hard into the vinyl edges of the examination table. "Talk to me. Is the baby breathing? Is the heart beating?""Janet, take a breath. The heartbeat is right here," Dr. Laura replied immediately, her voice switching to that steady, practiced clinical calm that doctors use when they are trying to keep a patient from tumbling over the edge of hysteria. She turned the audio dial, and the rapid, gallop-like rhythm filled the room again.Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.It was fast, steady, and clear. But the knot in my chest didn't loosen. Dr. Laura was still staring at the measurements on the screen, clicking her calipers across a cross-section of the tiny skull and abdomen."The heart is strong, Janet, and the umbilical doppler flow is currently within acceptable limits," Dr. Laura explained, finally resting the transducer on the holder and reaching for a paper towel to wipe the warm gel from my s

Janet"Marcus Hayes called me this morning on his private line," Daniel said, his voice unusually hesitant as he set a thick, plain white envelope on the bedside table. "He said Garrett came to his office in person three weeks ago. He delivered this by hand. Hayes forwarded it through our blind postal routing."I froze against my mountain of pillows, my fingers locking around the cotton edge of my blanket. At thirty-one weeks, my body was an immense, fragile weight, but the cold shock running through my veins had nothing to do with physical pain.I stared at the heavy cream envelope. There was no corporate stamp, no legal seal from Crawford Industries. Just my name written in a handwriting I would recognize anywhere: dark, precise, slightly slanting forward.Janet."Take it away," I whispered, my voice tight and hoarse. "Throw it in the trash, Daniel. Burn it. I don't want to see it.""Janet, you don't have to read it," Daniel said softly, not touching the envelope, respecting the sp

GarrettThe mahogany door clicked shut, sealing out the hum of the executive floor.I didn't invite Bianca to sit. I remained behind my desk, leaning back against the leather chair, watching her with an expression carved from granite. Months ago, I would have welcomed her presence, mistaking her manufactured sympathy for genuine loyalty. Now, every breath she drew inside my office felt like an intrusion.Bianca placed the small velvet box on the polished wood, then reached into her designer handbag and pulled out a slim, laminated sheet of paper. She laid it carefully on the desk between us, her pale blue eyes welling with practiced, glistening tears."I know you're angry with me, Garrett," Bianca began, her voice trembling with delicate contrition. "I know you think I had something to do with that awful photographer just because Vanguard Media once booked him. But the truth is... I came here today because I can't bear watching you tear yourself apart over a fantasy."I didn't touch t

JanetEvery breath felt like pulling air through a wet linen cloth.At thirty-two weeks, my body had ceased to feel like my own; it was an overburdened vessel pushed far beyond its natural limits to house four expanding lives. My ribcage ached with a continuous, sharp throb where tiny feet pressed upward without mercy, and my lower back felt as though the vertebrae were grinding together beneath an impossible weight.Even shifting from my side to my back on the bed took a calculated, agonizing effort that left me gasping, clutching the sheets as dizziness washed over my vision."Your blood pressure is creeping up, Janet," Dr. Laura had warned two days ago during her in-home check, her stethoscope cold against my swollen belly. "And your respiratory volume is severely reduced because your diaphragm is displaced. No more sitting upright at your laptop. No more shuffling down the hall to brew tea. Strict, horizontal bed rest. If you push yourself now, we will be delivering in an emergenc

Janet"No, please," I gasped, the hospital room suddenly tilting on its axis. My fingers dug desperately into the thin cotton sheet covering my knees, the telemetry monitors humming like an alarm klaxon in my ears. "Not yet. They’re too small, Dr. Laura. Baby Four isn't even two and a half pounds. Her lungs... her heart... they won't survive out here!""Janet, look at me," Dr. Laura commanded, her voice dropping into an anchor of clinical calm as she tightened her grip on my cold hands. "Breathe. Nobody is wheeling you into the operating room today. We are not scheduling delivery this morning."The frantic pounding in my chest stuttered, a ragged breath escaping my lips. "You... you're not?""No," Dr. Laura said firmly, shaking her head. "Our goal has not changed: we keep these four babies inside you for every single hour, every single day that is medically safe. Every forty-eight hours they stay in your womb cuts their time on a neonatal ventilator in half. But we have reached the ph