A DEAL FOR A LIFE TIME - CHAPTER 57&58
BETHEL
When we arrived at the hospital, Rico was rushed into the emergency ward. My heart was pounding in my chest as I waited, praying fervently for his safety. Rico’s parents were notified and were on their way. I couldn’t stand still; I kept pacing back and forth, anxiety gnawing at me.
A doctor approached me, breaking my restless cycle. “Sorry, madam, you must be Mrs. Bethel Shawn, correct?” he asked gently.
“Yes, I am,” I replied quickly, my voice tight with worry.
“We need to run some tests. From what you’ve described, you were injected and then fell asleep. Since you started feeling unwell afterward, we need to take a sample of your blood to identify the substance used,” he explained. I nodded in agreement, and soon, a nurse drew a small vial of blood from me. I hoped it would reveal nothing more than a simple reaction to the environment.
Suddenly, a piercing scream shattered the tension. “Where is my baby?” It was Rico’s mother. Upon seeing me, she rushed over and embraced me tightly. We both cried together, clinging to each other in our shared anguish. After a moment, she pulled back, her face streaked with tears.
“The police told us what happened,” she said between sobs. “We’ve decided to press charges against him. He’ll rot in jail for what he’s done. I’m so sorry, Bethel.”
“It’s not your fault,” I reassured her. “None of this is your fault.”
At that moment, Mr. Jefferson arrived. He looked stricken and gave me a heartfelt hug. “I’m so sorry about my father,” he said quietly.
“Thank you,” I responded, my voice choked with emotion.
The doctor emerged from the emergency ward, and I rushed to him, my heart racing. “What’s happening, doctor?” I demanded, desperate for news.
He sighed, his expression grave. “It’s 50/50, ma’am.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“It’s either he survives or he doesn’t. We’re still trying to extract the second bullet,” he said. My world seemed to collapse around me.
“You can’t just tell me that!” I argued, tears welling up. “A doctor says sorry only when someone has passed away. Rico isn’t dead!”
“I understand,” the doctor said, his voice soft. “We’re doing everything we can.”
“Don’t just say sorry,” I said, frustration and despair mingling in my voice. He nodded and walked back into the ward.
I broke down, collapsing onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Rico’s mother came over and wrapped her arms around me once more.
“He told me he loved me and wanted us to spend our lives together,” I cried. “Why now? Why is this happening?”
“We have to hold on to hope, Bethel,” she said, her voice soothing. “He’s a fighter. I know my son.”
She guided me to a chair, and I rested my head on her lap as she gently patted my back. The comfort of her presence did little to ease my heartache, but it helped me hold onto a sliver of hope.
A nurse soon called my name. “Mrs. Bethel Shawn?” I stood up, my heart leaping at the thought of new information.
“Yes?” I replied.
“Your test results are ready,” she said, handing me a folded sheet of paper. I thanked her and unfolded the paper, trying to decipher the medical jargon. My eyes landed on a crucial line: “Pregnant: Positive.”
I was stunned. “What does this mean?” I asked the nurse, my voice trembling.
She smiled softly. “The medication was just a standard sleeping aid. Congratulations, Mrs. Shawn, you’re about two weeks pregnant.”
Pregnant? I was carrying Rico’s child. A whirlwind of emotions surged through me—joy, fear, hope. I wasn’t sure whether to cry or smile, so I did both. Tears of joy streamed down my face as I gently touched my stomach. There was a new life growing inside me.
I walked out of the ward and found Rico’s mother. I wanted to keep this news from her for now; I hoped Rico would be the first to know.
“Why are you smiling?” she asked, noticing the tears still on my cheeks.
“It’s nothing,” I said, trying to mask my emotions.
“Rico, please wake up,” I whispered to myself. “You’re going to be a father. We’re going to have a little angel.”
Five hours later, the waiting continued. Each passing minute felt like an eternity, but my hope remained steadfast.
~~
It had been six grueling hours since Rico was taken into surgery, and no one had come to update me. I refused to leave, eat, or sleep. I simply wanted to be here, beside him—the love of my life and the father of our unborn child. As the clock ticked past 8 a.m., Rico’s mother decided to go home and bring some food, knowing that hospital fare was less than appetizing.
Suddenly, a doctor’s voice broke through the silence. “Mrs. Bethel Shawn?”
I sprang to my feet. “Yes?” My heart raced with anticipation.
The doctor’s face softened. “Congratulations. Rico survived the surgery, but he’s currently asleep.”
A wave of relief washed over me. “Which room is he in?”
“Room 201, a VIP room,” the doctor replied.
I rushed to the room, my pulse quickening. When I entered, I found Rico lying peacefully in bed, a drip attached to him. His breathing was steady, and he looked serene despite the circumstances. I sat beside him, gently brushing his hair away from his forehead. Even in his pallor, he was still incredibly handsome. I leaned in and kissed his forehead and cheeks.
“Guess what, Rico?” I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion. “We’re going to have a baby that looks just like you and me.”
Tears streamed down my face as I continued, “If it’s a boy, he’ll look just like you. If it’s a girl, she’ll look like both of us.” I pressed another kiss to his dry lips, feeling a mix of love and sadness.
I lay down beside him, resting my head on his chest. Listening to his steady heartbeat gave me comfort and strength. Exhaustion finally overcame me, and I fell asleep, lulled by the rhythmic beat of his heart.
I woke up groggily, stretching and yawning. “Hungry, right?” I heard Rico’s voice. I looked up to see him sitting up in bed, a warm smile on his face.
“Oh my God,” I said, tears of joy filling my eyes as I threw my arms around him. “You’re awake!”
“Babe,” Rico said softly, pulling me closer. “I love you.”
“I love you even more,” I replied, pressing my lips to his in a tender kiss.
“No, I love you more,” he insisted, his eyes twinkling.
“I disagree,” I said with a smile. “I love you more.”
“Fine, fine,” he laughed. “We love each other equally.”
I glanced at the clock; it was noon. “I slept so much,” I remarked, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“My mom just left, but she brought food for you,” he said, and I nodded gratefully.
“Rico,” I began hesitantly, “I want to ask you something.”
“Of course, babe,” he encouraged.
I took a deep breath. “Would you like to have kids?”
He looked surprised but thoughtful. “Well, that’s a surprise, but if it’s with you, I’d love to have kids.”
I hesitated before asking, “Would you like to have kids now? Like, now?”
He smirked playfully. “I don’t mind, but are you saying we should make babies now?”
I laughed softly. “No, that’s not what I mean. I just wanted to know.”
He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, smiling. “So, since you’re asking, we can’t make babies right now because we’ve already made one.”
Confusion and shock flashed across his face. “You mean I’m going to be a father?”
“Yes,” I said, smiling through my tears. “I’m two weeks pregnant.”
His eyes widened in disbelief and joy. “d@mn, I really am a $h00ter,” he said, then kissed me passionately. He lifted my shirt slightly and kissed my stomach gently.
“I’m going to be the best husband and father to you and our kids,” he promised, his voice filled with resolve and love. He kissed me again, sealing his promise with tenderness.
TBC