THE UNEXPECTED

CHAPTER 6

ANNA

“Hello?”

I’m too dumbfounded to speak as I wonder how Damien gets my contact and why he’s calling me.

“Errm hello..”I finally managed to say.

“Anna right?” he ask.

“Yes, Anna Smith here.”

“Okay, I called to inform you about your father. He has been rushed to the hospital.”

The words hit me like a ton of bricks and the room feels small as I find it hard to breathe.

“What happened? I just got off the phone with him a few hours ago this got to be some joke.”I manage to say.

“A joke? Why would I joke about Mr Smith’s health? I found him unconscious in my car park and rushed him to the St.Louis Hospital. I struggled to get your contact to be able to call you and you think this is a joke. You better get here soon as  things are not looking good at the moment.”Damien says irritated.

The words shook me to my core and for a moment, I am unable to comprehend them. The walls of my room start squeezing in like the room is shrinking with every beat of my heart. The air grows thick and heavy, making it hard to breathe. My hands scramble for something solid, anything to anchor me. I grab the edge of my bed, my knuckles turning white as I squeeze with all my might, trying to stop myself from trembling.

In a rush, I  grab my purse and keys and stumble out of the house, my vision blurred with tears. I hail for a taxi immediately and rushed to the hospital.

My mind churns, desperately trying to grasp the reality of this situation. Each movement is a slow, sluggish battle against the weight of what's just happened

When I arrive at the hospital, I rush out of the taxi and head straight to the reception desk to enquire.

“Good evening please I want to see my father. He has been  rushed here.”

The nurse looks at me with pitiful eyes which makes my heart skip a beat.

“What’s the name of your father Miss?”

“Oswell Smith please.”

“Okay, I guess the man who was rushed in by Mr.Donovan.” the nurse says.

“Yes, that's my father.”

She gets up from her seat and asks me to follow her.

“Is my father ok? What exactly is wrong with him? Is he awake now?”I bombard the nurse with so many questions because I need answers, but the nurse remains silent and leads me to a private session at the hospital.

“Your father is being attended to by our best doctors so you have nothing to worry about. I  wish I could answer all your questions but I don’t have the answers to them. Kindly wait here for the doctors and all your questions will be answered.”

“But will he be okay?” I asked her again.

“I hope that he’ll be okay Miss. Mr.Damien requested that you stay here when you arrive.”

“Oh okay. Where is he? I would like to speak with him.”

“I don’t know but I guess he has left .”

“Okay, thank you. I will wait here for the doctors then,”I nervously say.

“That’s good. Feel relaxed, everything will be fine,” The nurse says this to me and leaves me all alone.

I pace around the room and with each passing minute, I panic. I haven’t seen any doctor or nurse coming out of the emergency room.

Finally, a nurse comes out of the emergency room and I rush to her. “Please is he okay? What's wrong with him?”

"He's in here. The doctors are with him now. Kindly wait for a moment the doctors will be with you shortly."

I nod numbly, collapsing onto a nearby chair. I bury my face in my hands, my whole body trembling. The shock, fear, and helplessness crash over me in waves, leaving me gasping for breath. I pray silently, pleading for my father to be okay, and for this nightmare to end.

Finally, a team of four doctors scroll out of the emergency room, their faces void of emotions. One of the doctors makes his way towards me his expression is one of grief which makes my heart sink.

“Anna?” the doctor asks gently.

“Yes, that’s me,” my voice barely above a whisper.

“I'm Dr. Lambert,” he says, sitting down beside me. “Your father suffered a severe heart attack. We’ve stabilized him for now, but it was a close call.”

My breath immediately gets caught in my throat. I  feel like I am drowning in the flood of information. “A heart attack?”, my mind is struggling to wrap around the reality of the situation.

“Yes,” Dr. Lambert confirms. “From the test conducted when he was rushed here, your father has had underlying heart disease for some time, and this episode was triggered by a blockage in one of his coronary arteries. We performed an emergency angioplasty to clear the blockage and placed a stent to keep the artery open.”

 “Will he be okay?” I ask, my voice trembling.

Dr. Lambert sighs, his expression serious yet compassionate, “He’s stable for now, but the next 24 to 48 hours are critical. We’ll be monitoring him closely. You need to know that while the procedure went well, his heart is still very weak. He’ll need a lot of rest and a careful recovery plan.”

I  nod, trying to absorb everything. “Can I see him?” I  ask, my voice breaking.

“Of course,” the doctor says gently. “But he’s still unconscious from the sedation. You can sit with him, though. It might help to be there when he wakes up.”

I follow Dr. Lambert into the room. The sight of my father lying there, hooked up to various machines,  is almost too much to bear. I approach the bed slowly, my legs feeling like lead. I  reach out and take his hand, its familiar warmth bringing a slight comfort amid the chaos of my emotions.

“Hi, Dad,” I whisper, tears streaming down my face. “I’m here. You’re going to be okay. You have to be okay for my seek please..”

I sit down beside him, holding his hand tightly. The steady beep of the heart monitor is a small reassurance, a sign that he is still with me. I stay by his side, talking to him softly, sharing memories and stories, hoping that my voice might somehow reach him.

As the hours passed, nurses came and went, checking his vitals and making sure everything was in order.

The night drags on, and exhaustion begins to catch up with me. I rest my head on the edge of the bed, still holding my father’s hand. The fear and uncertainty is still there. I closed my eyes, whispered a silent prayer, and promised myself that no matter what happened, I would be there for her father every step of the way.

The dim hospital room is filled with the steady hum of machines and the occasional soft beep of the heart monitor. My head rested on the edge of my father's bed, my fingers still entwined with his. I must have drifted off for a bit, lulled by exhaustion and the overwhelming emotions of the day. The sudden creak of the door brought me back to consciousness.

I turn to see Damien Donovan standing very tall in the hospital room.

He walks towards me and stops himself right by my father’s bed. I am stunned by his handsomeness because he looks so much better than in the blogs and pictures online.

“Anna, right?” he asks with a look of pity on his face.

“Yes, I’m Anna Smith,” I say with a whisper.

“Damien Donovan, your soon-to-be husband.”

“Get out!”