CHAPTER 9: LAST SEMEN

Olive’s thoughts swirled around her, too rapid for her to make sense of them. Her mind kept drifting back to Raymond’s unexpected appearance in her hospital room, his words lingering even as the pain in her head grew stronger. I don’t need you, she had whispered, but the truth was, part of her wanted him to stay. She closed her eyes, trying to escape the confusion in her heart, but exhaustion overcame her, and her eyelids fluttered shut, pulling her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The night passed in a blur, and as the first light of dawn crept into the room, the quiet was broken by a gentle knock on the door. A nurse entered, her presence calm and reassuring. She checked the monitors by Olive’s bed, adjusting the drip and checking her vitals.

But something was wrong.

The nurse’s brow furrowed as she noticed Olive’s temperature climbing. She pressed her fingers to Olive’s forehead, confirming the rising fever. Without wasting a moment, she called for assistance, and soon, a team of doctors arrived. They worked quickly, attaching new IV bags and infusing various medications to bring down the fever and stabilize her condition. The soft hum of the machines and the hurried footsteps in the hallway were the only sounds in the otherwise still room.

As the medical team worked on her, the hospital called Raymond Stone. The phone rang once, twice, before Raymond picked up, his voice cool and distant.

"Mr. Stone, I’m afraid your wife, has developed a high fever. We’ve started an infusion to help lower her temperature, but we’re closely monitoring her condition. You might want to come down to the hospital," the doctor on the line explained in a calm but urgent tone.

Raymond stood still, his hand gripping the phone tightly, his mind racing. He had always been a man of action, preferring to control situations with logic and efficiency. But now, his emotions swirled in a way he couldn't control. His thoughts flitted between Olive's condition and his own unresolved feelings. He had no idea how to care for a pregnant woman—especially not one who was carrying the child he had worked so hard to create, the child that had come from his last remaining semen. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The surrogacy had been an experiment, one that had failed time and time again until this one final attempt had worked—but on the wrong woman. His anger swelled as he thought of the mistake Dr. Harris had made.

If not for his mistake, I wouldn't be in this mess, Raymond thought, his grip tightening on the phone. His mind wandered to the endless failed attempts, the heartbreak each time another surrogate couldn’t carry the child. This was the last of his semen—the last chance to have a biological child of his own. And it had ended up with Olive.

Raymond sighed deeply, the weight of responsibility sinking into his bones. He had never asked for this, had never wanted any of it. But now, it felt like fate had pushed him into a corner. I owe her, he thought bitterly. I owe her more than just money or gratitude. I owe her for carrying my child.

He didn’t know how to help her, how to be there for her in a way that wouldn’t make everything worse. But he couldn’t leave her alone, not now, not when she was in this fragile state. He turned to Daniel, who had been standing by.

“Daniel,” Raymond said in a low voice, his tone commanding. “Return back to Chicago and oversee the company for me, I will stay here at New York for sometime. Make sure things are running smoothly over there, and make sure the HMR department work on all the new recruiting staff. I’m going to the hospital.”

Daniel hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. He understood the urgency in Raymond’s voice and knew there was no point in questioning him.

As Raymond left the office in New York, his phone buzzed with a new message. It was from Daniel, and the words made Raymond stop in his tracks.

“Mia is here at New York,” the text read, followed by a short update. “She’s decided to move into your penthouse.”

Raymond’s lips curled into a dark smirk as he read the message. Mia. He had known she would come back sooner or later. She was persistent, determined, and far too interested in him for his liking. The thought of her living in his penthouse only added to his growing sense of frustration.

Why now? Raymond thought, his mind clouded with irritation. Why does she have to show up now?

He didn’t respond to Daniel’s message. Instead, he shoved his phone into his pocket and got into his car, his thoughts focused on Olive. He didn’t know why he felt compelled to stay with her at the hospital, but something inside him told him it was the right thing to do. He didn’t need to get close to her not physically, anyway. But he needed to be there, even if it meant keeping a distance.

At the hospital, Olive lay unconscious, her fever still high despite the medications. Her body was trembling, her skin flushed, as the doctors continued their work to stabilize her. Her mind was lost in the haze of fever dreams, her thoughts fragmented, unable to hold onto any one thing for long. She had never felt so vulnerable, so helpless. The situation was spiraling out of control, and she had no idea what to do about it.

Her eyes fluttered open briefly, only to close again as exhaustion took over. The sounds of the hospital seemed distant, muffled, as though they were coming from underwater. Olive wanted to scream, wanted to fight back against the world that seemed intent on pushing her into a corner, but her body wouldn’t let her.

Raymond arrived at the hospital, his footsteps heavy as he made his way through the sterile hallways. He had no idea what to expect when he entered Olive’s room. He wasn’t even sure why he was here whether it was out of obligation or something deeper. But when he pushed the door open and stepped inside, his heart sank.

Olive was pale, her body trembling beneath the thin hospital sheets. The nurses moved around her, adjusting her IV lines and checking her vitals, but there was a sense of helplessness in the air. It was clear she wasn’t improving, and Raymond felt a knot tighten in his chest.

He didn’t know how to help her. He didn’t know what to say or do, but he couldn’t just stand there. He needed to do something.

The doctor who had called him earlier was still present, checking the monitors and making quick notes. Raymond approached him, his voice low. “How is she?”

The doctor looked up, his face grim. “Her condition is stable for now, but the fever is concerning. We’re doing everything we can to keep her temperature down, but it’s touch-and-go at the moment.”

The day dragged on, but Raymond refused to leave. He remained by Olive’s side, watching from a distance, waiting for any sign that things might improve. His thoughts returned to Mia and the message from Daniel. He couldn’t help but feel a dark satisfaction at the thought of Mia settling into his penthouse. It was another drama he wasn't ready for.

As the sun began to set, Raymond finally left the hospital room to grab a quick dinner. When he returned, Olive’s condition had improved slightly, her fever lowered, though she was still unconscious. He stayed, determined to be there when she woke, even if it meant sitting in silence.

And as he sat by her bed, staring at her fragile form, a quiet realization settled over him.