Chapter - 2 Lost my child

Bianca's POV

I woke up to the sound of machines beeping rhythmically, their monotony punctuating the sterile atmosphere of the hospital room. Blinking away the haze of sleep, I glanced around, momentarily disoriented. Then it all came rushing back—my harrowing labor, the loss of my daughter, and the heartlessness of Damon's words. 

He left me with no choice. I signed the divorce papers and sent them to him by courier service. It's clear that there is nothing between us anymore. The only thing that could be between us is my son who he obviously doesn't want. 

My heart weighed heavy in my chest, as tears forced to come out from my eyes. I clutched my hands. I knew I had to gather my courage and strength. My son is still there. I had to be strong for him.

Sitting up in the hospital bed, I scanned the room until my gaze settled on an unfamiliar face—a middle-aged man in a white lab coat, his expression a mix of concern and professionalism. He seemed like a doctor to me, and I braced myself for whatever news he might bring.

"Good morning," he greeted me gently, sensing my awareness. "I'm Dr. Anderson. How are you feeling today, Miss Bianca?" His voice was soft, and soothing even as if he understood the pain I carried within. My eyes zoomed on him. 'Psychiatrist,' I watched his Id and guessed the nurse sent for him being how unusual I was before. I mustered a weak smile and replied honestly, "Physically, I'm recovering. Emotionally… I'm trying my best."

Dr. Anderson nodded, empathy etched in his eyes. "Understandably. The loss you have experienced can take a heavy toll on your emotional well-being. We must address both aspects of your recovery." He paused for a second, and continued with seriousness, "Have you ever been diagnosed with depression?"

His question caught me off guard. Depression? I had never considered it before, but perhaps it made sense given the circumstances. I pondered his words for a moment before shaking my head. "No. I mean, I'm just going through a difficult time right now, but I'll be okay. I have to be."

The doctor's gaze softened even further, his voice tinged with sincerity. "Bianca, it's crucial that you allow yourself to heal. Your emotional well-being matters just as much as your physical recovery. I would strongly recommend speaking with a therapist who can help you navigate through these challenging times."

Though reluctant, I understood that he spoke from a place of genuine concern. Perhaps seeking professional help wouldn't be a sign of weakness, but rather a step toward healing. I nodded slowly, contemplating his suggestion.

"I will… consider it," I replied hesitantly, acknowledging the weight of his words.

Just as I pondered my next steps, the doctor's expression brightened slightly, and he said, "Oh, by the way, someone came to visit you earlier. It seemed he was the person who brought you to the hospital. He was quite worried about your well-being. Would you like me to bring them in?"

Curiosity piqued, I nodded, eager to discover who cared enough to check up on me, when even my child's father doesn't care about us. I couldn't help but feel a sliver of gratitude towards this person who had brought me to the hospital. I had to be after all, without him me and my children could have died… I stopped bad thoughts from engulfing me any further and waited for the man's visit.

The door creaked open, and my attention shifted to the figures that entered the room. The first person to step inside was an elderly gentleman with a gentle countenance. His silver hair and furrowed brow were a testament to a life well-lived, and his eyes shimmered with a mixture of concern and relief.

Beside him stood a younger man, his features mirroring those of the older gentleman. It was clear that they were related—father and son, perhaps. Their presence in my room stirred a curious mix of emotions within me—curiosity, hope, and uncertainty.

The older man's voice was laced with emotion as he spoke, "Are you doing well? I received word of what happened, and I couldn't bear the thought of you being alone during such a difficult time."

Confusion clouded my mind. Who was this man, and why did he care so deeply for me? Sensing my bewilderment, he continued, his voice trembling slightly, "I'm sorry, my dear. I should have come earlier…" The man continued, "Where is your mother, father, and umm… family?"

I shook my head, and claimed, "I'm an orphan…"

The old man's eyes became watery, as he repeated, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

I was confused, and couldn't grasp the situation. We are just strangers, so why is he caring for me so nicely?

"You see, I am your grandfather…" he finally disclosed, making me stunned.

My heart skipped a beat, the revelation striking me like a bolt of lightning. The concept of having a family, of belonging to someone, had always been foreign to me. I had grown up as an orphan, navigating life's challenges on my own. But now, standing before me, was a man who claimed to be my grandfather—the missing link to a hidden past.

Emotions welled up within me, a maelstrom of hope and longing. Could it be true? Could I finally have a family, someone to lean on in times of darkness? I searched his eyes, seeking the truth.

"I'm an orphan," I whispered, my voice quivering. "I never knew my parents. How can this be?"

Tears glistened in the old man's eyes, and he reached out, placing a hand on my arm. "My dear, I don't know what you have gone through, but I'm your mother's father… Look at the photo, you both look so alike…" he said, stretching out a photo on my hand.

There was a woman in the photo, she was just like my twin. My heart started beating faster. Do I really have a family? 

"I also checked the DNA… There's no way, you're not related to me…"

His words resonate deeply within me, a bittersweet realization dawning. During all those years of loneliness and longing, I had unknowingly yearned for the love and connection that family could offer.

The younger man stepped forward, his voice filled with warmth. "Bianca, I'm Alex, your cousin."

I looked from one face to another, my heart swelled with a mix of emotions. I was confused about what to do. Should I hug them? On one side, I was boiling with rage and my heart bled with sadness. However, on the other hand, I was happy but confused about gaining a new family.