Chapter 708 Can I See Him?

Chandler frowned deeply, his face tense. He wanted to say something else, but Meryl pried his hands off her waist, one finger at a time. “It’s late. I’m tired. Please leave.”

Chandler froze for a moment. Meryl turned, her eyes red, and shoved him out of the room with all her strength. Chandler tried to reach for her, but Meryl slammed the door shut without hesitation.

With a loud “bang,” Chandler’s fingers got caught in the doorframe. Right after, he heard the distinct sound of the door locking from inside.

That door–just a single door–now felt like an unbreachable barrier separating the two of them into completely different worlds. Chandler stood there, staring after her.

Through the glass panel on the hospital door, he saw Meryl slowly crouch down inside the room, her shoulders shaking as if she were crying. His chest ached. A deep sense of helplessness engulfed him.

He knew she didn’t want to see him right now, so he didn’t force the issue. Breaking down the door would only make things worse.

Walter suddenly appeared beside him. “Mr. Aniston, your hand…”

Chandler’s fingers were an angry shade of red, almost purple as if they were about to bleed. They were clearly swollen. But Chandler didn’t seem to notice. He just kept staring blankly at the door to the hospital room.

Walter had no idea what had happened, but quickly said, “Let me take you to the doctor to get that looked at.” Chandler didn’t object.

A short while later, Anne rushed to the hospital, looking flustered. When she knocked on the door, Meryl finally unlocked it and let her in.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Anne pulled Meryl into a hug the moment she saw her red, swollen eyes. “You’re still in recovery—crying isn’t good for you. You’ll end up with long–term health issues. Come on, stop crying.”

As she spoke, Anne gently wiped away Meryl’s tears. Meryl felt miserable and wronged. Maybe it was because she’d been hurt so badly by Dalton in the past that she thought Chandler was her salvation.

She had wanted a fresh start, a good life, but everything had spiraled into chaos. The greater the hope, the deeper the disappointment. Suddenly, she felt lost about what the future held.

Anne continued to comfort her, and little by little, Meryl managed to calm down. When she noticed Anne wasn’t wearing any makeup, Meryl asked curiously, “Why are you here so late at night?”

“Dante called me and he said you weren’t feeling great and thought I should come to keep you company,” Anne explained as she set down her bag and helped Meryl lie back in bed. “I’m guessing it was Chandler’s idea.”

Meryl’s eyes flicked to the door instinctively. She didn’t see Chandler. She thought, “Has he left?”

“To keep you from overthinking things, I’ll stay with you at the hospital for the next few days.” Anne patted the space beside her. “Mind if I crash here with you?”

“Of course not.” Meryl scooted over, and Anne climbed into bed next to her.

Pulling Meryl into a hug, Anne joked, “You smell so nice.”

Meryl squirmed uncomfortably. “I haven’t showered in days. Are you just trying to cheer me up? What are you doing…”

Anne grinned. “You have a son. I have a daughter. If we ended up together, wouldn’t that be perfect–two kids, one of each?”

Meryl rolled her eyes.

Anne smiled, “Alright, I’ll stop teasing. Let’s get some sleep.”

Maybe because Anne was there, Meryl didn’t spiral into her usual overthinking. For the first time in a while, she slept deeply.

When she woke up, the doctors were doing their rounds. The professor entered the room with over a dozen medical interns trailing behind him. Anne was still snoring next to her, so Meryl quickly shook her awake.

Anne sat up groggily, only to realize she’d just been caught sleeping by an entire room of people. Embarrassed, she climbed out of bed, trying to keep her composure.

The doctor examined Meryl’s incision and nodded. “You’re healing well. If there are no complications, you should be able to leave the hospital by tomorrow at the latest.”

Meryl immediately asked, “What about my baby?”

“The baby is still in the neonatal unit,” the doctor replied. “I’m with the obstetrics department. You can ask your family to check in with the neonatal team about the baby’s condition later.”

Meryl’s thoughts were consumed by her child. When the baby was born, she had been under anesthesia and hadn’t even gotten a chance to see him. She didn’t know what her own son looked like.

Anne, understanding her longing, helped her over to the neonatal unit.

“Your baby was premature, so he won’t be discharged with you,” the pediatrician explained matter–of–factly. “He was born underweight, his lungs weren’t fully developed, and he just came off the ventilator yesterday. His vital signs are still unstable. You can come back in a week to check on him again.”

“Can I at least see him?” Meryl pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes. “I haven’t seen him even once since he was born.”

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t allowed. Premature babies were extremely vulnerable to germs, and moving them could disrupt their monitoring equipment.

But the doctor hesitated, seeing the exhaustion and desperation on Meryl’s face. Softening, they finally nodded. “Wait here. We’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

As the reality of seeing her baby sank in, Meryl’s heart raced. She clutched Anne’s hand tightly. Anne patted her hand reassuringly.

Before long, Meryl was looking through a glass window at the tiniest little bundle. Her baby’s skin was paper–thin, his tiny body curled up, so small he looked shorter than her arm.

He was asleep, his eyes closed, with a faint indentation on his nose from the ventilator. His tiny fists were clenched tightly, and a thin IV line was taped to his delicate arm. The sight of the needle in her fragile baby made Meryl’s heart clench.

Meryl’s lips trembled, her nose stung, and tears streamed down her face. She thought, “My baby hasn’t even been in my arms yet, and here he is, enduring all this pain in an incubator. This isn’t supposed to be his fate.”

She took out her phone and snapped a photo of him. But because of his jaundice, the nurse only let her stay for a few minutes before taking him away again. Leaning on Anne’s shoulder, Meryl broke down into sobs.

“When Bella was born, she had to spend a few days in the NICU too,” Anne said gently. “Trust me, babies are tougher than they look. You’ll bring him home soon enough.”

Meryl wiped her tears and nodded. She thought, “I’m a mother now. I can’t afford to fall apart. Before my baby can come home, I have a lot to take care of.”

Back in the room, Chandler was waiting for breakfast. He placed a steaming plate of soup in front of her. “It’s my first time making this. Not sure if it’s any good but give it a try.”

Meryl’s eyes landed on his hand, which was wrapped in bandages. She realized it must have been injured when she slammed the door on him yesterday.

Anne’s anger flared the moment she saw Chandler. There were things Meryl couldn’t bring herself to say, but Anne had no such reservations.

She snapped, “Where were you when Meryl needed you the most? Now you show up with your lame attempts at damage control? Really, Chandler? Ever heard the saying, ‘Too little, too late’?

“She went through the hardest moments alone—having the baby, recovering, everything. What kind of husband are you? What’s the point of you even being here now? She opened her heart to you, trusted you, and what did you do? Let her down.

“And don’t even get me started on Rachel. She’s still in the ICU, isn’t she? If you care about her so much, why don’t you go to her? Why are you here? You two deserve each other–just stay away from Meryl!”