Chapter 759
The old woman, fuming, grabbed a box of tissues from the nightstand and hurled it at him.
Jamison didn’t bother to dodge. After all, getting hit by a box of tissues wasn’t going to kill him.
Fortunately, at that moment, the door to the hospital room opened, and Davina walked in carrying a thermal container.
Having already heard the old woman’s scolding from outside, Davina immediately understood what was going on. She stepped forward and gently ushered her brother-in-law out. “Jamison, go take care of your work. I’ll stay with Mom.”
“Alright,” Jamison said, grateful for the reprieve, and slipped out.
He hadn’t even made it back to his office when his phone started ringing.
He glanced at the screen, and the cold, tense look on his face softened just a little. “Hello?”
Ivy’s voice came through the line. “Will you be able to get home on time for dinner tonight?”
“Is there something special going on?” he asked, puzzled.
Ivy realized he’d completely forgotten what day it was. He must have been swamped at the hospital. Her heart ached for him. “Nothing in particular. I just thought…it’s been a while since you’ve come home.”
Jamison found himself reflecting. Ever since that incident a few nights ago, he’d been staying at the hospital non-stop.
“Alright. If nothing urgent comes up, I’ll head home early tonight. I’ll ask my brother to cover for me.” Truth be told, he missed his wife too, and his voice softened.
“Okay, see you tonight.”
After hanging up, Jamison couldn’t shake the feeling that Ivy was up to something. Then he remembered the list of gifts he’d gotten from Naylor a while back – the handbags, clothes, shoes; all those things he’d ordered had arrived. Tonight would be the perfect time to bring them home for her.
Back in the office, his colleagues were discussing dinner plans when it suddenly hit him – today was Christmas Eve!
And his birthday.
With everyone around him still grieving the recent loss in the family and a mountain of other troubles piling up, he’d completely forgotten about his own birthday.
No wonder Ivy had called to make sure he’d be home. She must have something planned.
Thirty. A milestone, no doubt.
The thought of his wife preparing a birthday surprise sent a ripple of anticipation through him, lifting the cloud that had hung over him for days. He couldn’t wait for the workday to end.
But things rarely go as planned.
Everything was quiet until just before the end of his shift, when two car accident victims were rushed into the ER.
A hospital-wide page sounded, calling all available doctors for emergency consults. Jamison hesitated, thinking about sending a colleague instead.
But then the ER called him directly. “Professor Ludwig, one of the patients has broken ribs puncturing the left lung, with a severe internal infection…”
Chest trauma was one of his specialties – he couldn’t ignore it.
Resolved, he gathered as much information as he could about the patient’s vitals while briskly making his way to the emergency room.
By the time he finished the call, he’d already arrived at the ER. He barely had time to send Ivy a one-second voice message on WhatsApp: “Emergency surgery.”
Meanwhile, Ivy had already made it home.
She’d left work early, having secretly planned a birthday dinner with Boyd for Jamison. Everything had been set.
But after that unexpected incident a few nights ago, any kind of celebration felt inappropriate. A noisy party would only invite criticism from all sides, so Ivy decided to follow an online recipe and bake her husband a homemade cake.
She’d gone to the supermarket the night before, bought everything she needed, studied the instructions, and bookmarked her favorite tutorials.
She was confident – after all, how hard could baking a cake be?
When Jamison’s WhatsApp came through, she opened it eagerly, thinking maybe he was already on his way home. She panicked a little – she hadn’t even started yet!
But his message was just two words: “Emergency surgery.”
Ivy’s heart sank. Her shoulders slumped, and she let out a weary sigh.
The spacious, elegant house suddenly felt a little emptier than usual.
But only for a moment. She shook herself, determined to stick to her plan.
After all, even overtime has to end eventually. He’d be home sooner or later. At least now she didn’t have to rush.
But fate had given her beauty and intelligence, while slamming the door on any talent in the kitchen.
Over an hour later, her back aching and nerves frayed, she had to admit defeat. The kitchen was a disaster, and the cake a complete failure.
She felt utterly deflated, staring at the mess in front of her. Maybe she just wasn’t meant to cook.
Worried that Jamison would see the evidence and she’d lose face, she forced herself to rally. She cleaned up the countertop, tossing what she could and hiding the rest.
No way could Jamison ever find out what she’d tried to do tonight – or how badly she’d failed.
After taking out the trash, she climbed the stairs with trepidation, half-expecting to bump into Jamison returning from overtime.
But she was worrying for nothing.
A glance at the wall clock – past nine, and he still wasn’t home.
Ivy hesitated, then sent him a WhatsApp message:
[What time do you think you’ll be home?]
No reply.
He must still be in surgery.
With less than three hours left in his birthday, Ivy thought for a moment, then headed back into the kitchen.
The cake was a lost cause, and it was too late to buy one now.
Maybe she could make him a bowl of birthday noodles instead.
How hard could it be to cook noodles?
Besides, in her family tradition, birthdays were always marked with a bowl of long noodles for a long life.
Who needed cake, anyway? That was just some imported Western thing.
Comforting herself, Ivy rolled up her sleeves and got started again, filled with new determination.