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Not long after, the ambulance arrived. The medical staff lifted me onto a stretcher and my father followed closely behind. Inside the vehicle, a nurse took my temperature and blood pressure, and conducted some basic checks.
The vehicle quickly reached the hospital, and I was wheeled into the emergency room. Doctors busily surrounded me, asking about my symptoms and performing various examinations. My father anxiously waited by my side. After a thorough diagnosis, the doctors informed us that my high fever and abdominal pain were due to a decrease in my body's immunity caused by excessive fatigue and stress, combined with the special physiological conditions of pregnancy. They suggested that I stay in the hospital for observation for a while to rest properly, while also closely monitoring the condition of the fetus. I breathed a sigh of relief; at least the baby was fine. In the following days, I focused on recovering in the hospital, with my aunt and father taking turns to care for me.
On this day, sunlight streamed through the hospital windows, casting dappled shadows on the floor of the ward. However, a tense and mysterious atmosphere lingered in the room. At that moment, a figure quietly appeared at the door. He held a bouquet of vibrant flowers and cautiously stepped into the room, his footsteps light as if afraid to wake me from my slumber.
He slowly approached my bedside, gazing at me with gentle eyes. When he saw me peacefully sleeping, he hesitated for a moment and chose not to wake me. Instead, he quietly sat by the bed and extended his finger to gently stroke my face. At that moment, a familiar scent of vanilla wafted through the air.
I vaguely felt a warm hand gently rubbing my belly; this touch was both strange and familiar. I tried to open my eyes, but heavy sleepiness overwhelmed me. Despite this, a ripple of anticipation began to stir within me.
When I finally woke from my slumber and slowly opened my eyes, I looked around to find that the ward seemed particularly empty and quiet; those who should have been by my bedside were nowhere to be seen. I couldn't help but wonder if everything that had happened before was just a dream. Just as I attempted to get up and move around a bit, my gaze was suddenly drawn to the vibrant red roses placed on the bedside table. I stared at them blankly and counted—there were eleven in total... Who could have sent these?
My aunt pushed open the ward door and noticed me staring at the bouquet in surprise. "Did someone come to see you?" she asked. I shook my head, "I don't know who it is. I felt someone come in while I was asleep, but when I woke up, there was no one in the room—just this bouquet of roses."
"Could it be one of your classmates? Check your phone to see if anyone left you a message or something," she suggested. It was surprising that such a simple idea hadn't occurred to me; I quickly grabbed my phone to check for messages. However, there were no unread messages or missed calls. Who could have visited me?
"Never mind; you're pregnant now and shouldn't be smelling flowers anyway. I'll take them home," she said. I nodded as she removed the roses from their vase to take them back with her.
My aunt carefully cradled the flowers as she returned home but found a man sitting on the sofa as soon as she opened the door. The man was thin and dressed in a sharp suit, leisurely sipping coffee. My aunt's anger flared instantly; she angrily threw the flowers at him and shouted, "Did you go see Xiao Fan at the hospital? These flowers are from you, aren't they? How dare you come back!"
At that moment, Uncle heard the commotion from the kitchen and hurried out to intervene. "Alright, alright, stop arguing," he said while pulling my aunt aside. "After all, he is the biological father of the child; we can't just let Xiao Fan suffer alone." My aunt remained furious and retorted, "Do you really think Xiao Fan needs his help? Isn't her current situation all because of him?" With that, she angrily sat down on the sofa and began hitting a cushion several times to vent her frustration and anger.
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