Chapter Six

Ethan’s POV

The hospital staff quickly took over as soon as we arrived, wheeling Sophia into the emergency room. I stood outside, feeling a helplessness that was foreign to me.

As I wandered the hallways, memories from college flooded my mind—memories of my best friend, Jake, whom I had lost due to my negligence.

Back in college, Jake and I had a huge fight over something trivial. He had been going through a rough patch and needed someone to talk to, but I was too absorbed in my own problems to listen. Our argument escalated, and in a fit of anger, he stormed out of my house.

I remember watching him leave, feeling a mix of frustration and guilt. Later that night, I received a call saying that Jake had been in a car accident. He died in the hospital, and I’ve blamed myself ever since for letting our fight get out of hand and for not being there for him when he needed me.

Now, here I am again, putting Sophia at risk because of my neglect.

Minutes felt like hours before a doctor approached me.

“Mr. Westwood?”

“Yes, how is she?” I asked, my voice betraying my anxiety.

“She’s stable for now, but she has a severe infection. We’re starting treatment, but it’s a good thing you brought her in when you did.”

I nodded, relief flooding through me.

“Can I see her?”

The doctor hesitated. “Just for a moment. She needs rest.”

I entered the room, my heart aching at the sight of Sophia hooked up to IVs, looking so small and fragile in the hospital bed. I took her hand, squeezing it gently.

“You’re going to be okay,” I whispered, more to reassure myself than her.

“You have to be.”

It has been hours since I brought her in, and I haven't gotten any other news from the doctors. I was growing impatient.

The rhythmic beeping of machines and the sharp smell of antiseptics saturated the air, reminding me of the stark reality of the hospital room. I sat by Sophia’s bedside, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath. Her face was drained of color, but she looked peaceful in her slumber. I couldn't help but feel a constant pang of guilt for my role in her injury.

This was my fault. I had avoided her, and now she lies here because of my negligence.

I leaned back in the chair, rubbing my temples. The staff's incompetence infuriated me, but my own avoidance stung even more. I had been so wrapped up in my doubts and pressures that I hadn't considered her well-being. That had to change.

A soft knock at the door broke my thoughts. A nurse entered, clipboard in hand. "Mr. Westwood, the doctor will see you now."

I nodded, squeezing Sophia’s hand gently before standing up. I followed the nurse down the corridor, my mind racing with possibilities.

The doctor’s office was a small, neat space filled with medical books and certificates. Dr. Harper, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, gestured for me to sit.

"Mr. Westwood, thank you for your patience," she began, glancing at her notes.

"We have the results of Sophia’s tests."

My heart pounded. "Is she going to be alright?"

"She’s stable," Dr. Harper assured me. "She needs rest and proper care, which we’re providing. But there's more." She paused, looking at me with a hint of a smile.

"Sophia is pregnant."

A rush of emotions hit me all at once—relief, joy, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility. Pregnant. The word echoed in my mind, bringing with it a wave of hope and anxiety.

"How far along is she?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Approximately eight weeks," Dr. Harper replied. "It's still early, but everything seems normal so far."

I nodded, absorbing the information. Eight weeks. That meant she had been carrying our child through all the turmoil and stress. The realization hit me hard. I had doubted her and questioned her integrity, all while she was nurturing our future.

"Can I go back to see her?" I asked, needing to be by her side.

"Of course," Dr. Harper said, standing up. "Just make sure she gets plenty of rest."

I walked back to her room, my steps lighter despite the weight of the news. As I entered, I saw her stirring, her eyes fluttering open. I rushed to her side, taking her hand in mine.

"Sophia," I said softly, leaning closer. "You’re awake."

She smiled weakly, her eyes focusing on me. "Ethan, what happened?"

"You were unwell," I explained gently. "But you’re going to be fine. The doctors are taking good care of you and the baby."

She nodded slowly, then her eyes widened with a mix of surprise and hope. "The baby?"

"Yes, Sophia. You’re pregnant." I smiled, unable to contain my joy.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she squeezed my hand.

"I’m sorry, Sophia. For everything. I should have been there for you."

She shook her head slightly. "You’re here now. That’s what matters."

I leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I promise I’ll be here for you, for both of you. No more doubts, no more avoidance."

The days that followed were a blur of hospital visits and planning. I arranged for Sophia to have the best care possible, ensuring that she and the baby were monitored closely.