Chapter 162
The hum of the hospital reception was cold and sterile, a constant drone that pressed against Eliana’s ears like a swarm of restless bees. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and something sharper—like metal and worry. People moved around her in muted rhythm: the squeak of rubber soles on polished tiles, the shuffle of paperwork, the low murmur of nurses exchanging shifts. But Eliana barely noticed any of it. Her world had shrunk to the uneven beating of her own heart.
She stood frozen in the middle of the lobby, her fingers curled protectively around her father’s arm as if he were the only thing anchoring her to the ground. Her brown eyes flickered with emotions she couldn’t name—shock, anger, fear, a hollow ache she’d spent three long months trying to bury. Yet no matter how deep she’d buried them, they clawed their way back to the surface the moment she heard his name.
Rafael.
The syllables burned through her thoughts like a match held too long. Rafael—here, in this very building. The man who had once been her everything, and then, with one cruel misunderstanding, shattered her heart so completely that she had fled across oceans just to breathe again.
Now he was somewhere in these whitewashed walls, broken, they said. Sick, maybe. Suffering, perhaps. The irony twisted cruelly in her chest.
She wanted to turn away, to drag her father out of that place and never look back. She had built a new life—fragile but hers—piece by piece. A nice home that smelled like coffee and sunlight. Gentle mornings filled with laughter she was still learning to trust. Nights where she finally slept without seeing his face.
But the thought of him here—weak, human, real—sent a shiver through her resolve. There was a pull she couldn’t fight, a cruel thread binding her to him no matter how far she ran. It was the kind of connection that defied logic and forgiveness alike.
Eliana’s breath trembled as she whispered, almost to herself, “Why now p>
The question vanished into the hum of the hospital, unanswered.
“Eliana?” James’s voice cut through her reverie, soft but insistent, his eyes pleading beneath the fluorescent lights. He adjusted his tie again, a nervous habit she remembered from her days in the Vexley mansion, where every interaction felt like walking on eggshells.
She blinked, forcing herself to focus. Her father, stood beside her, his weathered hand squeezing hers gently, his face etched with concern. The lines around his eyes deepened as he studied her, knowing her better than anyone. “Ellie, sweetheart,” he said, his voice gravelly from years of quiet strength and hidden pain. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re thinking about going up there, aren’t you p>
Eliana swallowed hard, her lips pressing into a thin line. The bump of her pregnancy pressed against her simple dress, a constant reminder of the life growing inside her—a life tied irrevocably to Rafael. “Papa, I… I don’t know. Part of me wants to forget him, to just walk away like I’ve been trying to do. These last three months, we’ve built something real here. School, Henry, you getting better—it’s all starting to feel like a fresh start.” Her voice trembled, laced with the emotional resilience she’d cultivated through years of abandonment and hardship. But beneath it, the love she’d once felt for Rafael simmered, refusing to be extinguished. “But hearing he’s here, that he’s lost his sight again… I can’t just abandon him. Not when he’s the father of this baby p>
Frank nodded slowly, his kind eyes misting over. He’d been her rock since her mother walked out all those years ago, leaving them in a sea of poverty and unspoken grief. “I know, Ellie. That heart of yours—it’s too big sometimes. Too kind for your own good.” He glanced at James, who hovered nearby like a shadow, then back to his daughter. “If you need to go see him, go. I can handle the doctor’s appointment on my own. I’ve been doing this long enough without you hovering like a mother hen p>
Eliana’s lips curved into a small, hopeful smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Are you sure, Papa? I don’t want to leave you alone p>
He chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring in the cold hospital air. “Alone? In a place full of nurses and doctors? I’ll be fine. Just promise me you’ll call if you need me. And remember, Ellie—you’re not the same girl who left that mansion. You’ve got strength in you that man could never break p>
She leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, inhaling the faint scent of his aftershave mixed with the hospital’s antiseptic tang. “I love you, Papa. I’ll be back soon p>
As Frank shuffled toward the elevators leading to the general wards, Eliana turned to James, her slender frame straightening with quiet determination. “Alright, James. Take me to him p>
James’s face lit up with relief, though he masked it quickly with a professional nod. “This way, Miss Bennett. The VIP wing is upstairs—private elevator p>
They walked in silence at first, the click of Eliana’s flat shoes echoing against the polished marble floors. The hospital corridors stretched like endless veins, lined with doors hiding stories of pain and recovery. Eliana’s mind raced, memories flooding back unbidden: the first time she’d met Rafael, his commanding presence in that grand mansion, the way his steel-grey eyes—now supposedly clouded for real again—had pierced through her defenses. The nights of passion, the betrayals, the heartache. She touched her bump absentmindedly, a silent vow to protect her child from the chaos that was Rafael Vexley.
As they approached the private elevator, its doors gleaming like silver sentinels, James cleared his throat. “Eliana, I… I have to say, it’s good to see you. Really. Mr. Vexley—he’s not been the same since you left p>
She shot him a sidelong glance, her expressive eyes narrowing. “Not the same? James, let’s not pretend. He put me through hell. The manhandling, the accusations… I disappeared for a reason p>
The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, and they stepped inside. The enclosed space felt intimate, almost claustrophobic, mirroring the tension building in Eliana’s chest. James pressed the button for the top floor, his fingers lingering as if buying time. “I know. And he knows it too. But these past months… they’ve broken him in ways I never thought possible p>
Eliana leaned against the mirrored wall, her long black curls falling over her shoulders like a dark waterfall. “Broken him? What about me, James? I was the one left waiting, pregnant and alone, after he ignored every means I tried to get him to talk to me p>
James’s eyes softened, his voice dropping to a whisper as the elevator ascended. “He saw it, Eliana. The message about the pregnancy. But when he did, it was too late—he’s phone had broken due to an accident. By the time it was fixed and he read it, you were gone p>
Her heart clenched, a sharp pang that made her breath hitch. She remembered that night vividly: sitting in Henry’s large apartment, phone in hand, waiting for a reply that never came. The morning after, packing her bags in tears, vowing to start over. “Too late? That’s convenient. No wonder you didn’t even blink when you saw my round belly p>
James nodded, his face earnest. “I knew. We all did, eventually. But when he couldn’t find you… that’s when things spiraled p>
The elevator doors opened onto a hushed hallway, carpeted in plush navy and lined with tasteful artwork—worlds away from the bustling lower floors. James led her toward a set of double doors at the end, marked “VIP Suite.” Outside, he paused, turning to face her with a grave expression. The air here was cooler, scented with faint lavender from hidden diffusers, but it did little to ease the knot in Eliana’s stomach.
“Before you go in,” James said, his voice low and urgent, “I need to warn you. Don’t be too harsh on him, even if you’re still angry—and God knows you have every right to be. His condition… it could worsen if he gets too upset p>
Eliana’s eyes widened, fear creeping in like icy fingers. James looked dead serious, his usual composed demeanor cracking at the edges. “Worsen? What do you mean p>
“He’s hooked up to a heart monitor in there,” James explained, gesturing toward the door. “To make sure his stress levels don’t spike. Ever since you disappeared, he’s been through hell. Pain, real pain—physical and mental p>
She wanted to laugh, a bitter sound bubbling up in her throat. “Pain? What about my pain, James? The nights I cried myself to sleep, wondering if he’d ever care about me or this baby p>
James held up a hand, his expression pleading. “I know, I know. But hear me out. Be the bigger person here, just for a moment. When he found out about the baby, he searched everywhere—hired investigators, combed the city. But then… Sarai and Bianca Monroe showed up at the mansion p>
Eliana froze, her warm brown skin paling. “Sarai and Bianca? What do they have to do with this p>
James glanced down the empty hallway, as if afraid of being overheard. “They came with news. Said you were dead. Killed in a car accident. And the Jackson Hospital confirmed it—records showed you’d been cremated, approved by your father and… your boyfriend, Henry Jackson p>
The words hit her like a thunderclap. Dead? Cremated? Eliana’s hand flew to her mouth, her body swaying as shock coursed through her. “Dead? Me? That’s… that’s insane. I’m standing right here p>
James nodded solemnly, his voice steady but laced with empathy. “I know. But that’s what they told him. The documents looked real—forged, we suspect now. Rafael… he believed it. His mental health crumbled. He stopped eating, stopped sleeping. And slowly, his eyesight started fading again. Stress-induced, the doctors say. He’s thinner now, weary. Not the man you remember p>
Eliana’s heart sank into a bottomless pit, her mind reeling. She couldn’t process it—the web of lies, the cruelty. Adrenaline surged, propelling her forward. “I have to see him,” she whispered, pushing past James.
She burst through the door, her breath catching at the sight before her.