Chapter 95
Perhaps Merritt hadn’t expected me to stand my ground so firmly, a flicker of surprise crossed his face.
Kayla, on the other hand, looked smug. Me clashing with Merritt was exactly what she wanted.
Before Merritt could get angry, I jumped in with an explanation, “A college buddy invited me out for dinner, her cousin just got back from abroad.”
“Last time, when Isla caught me in a compromising situation, a drunk called me a sassy nun and tried to rip off my wig. Her cousin was just trying to help, what more do you want to know?”
“Do we need to summon Isla’s spirit to find out who put her up to this, to smear my name?”
Merritt wasn’t the type to act on impulse. Looking at Kayla by his side, I had a
hunch.
Sure enough, Merritt’s expression soured, and his gaze toward Kayla wasn’t as
warm as before.
“Clyde, what’s Melanie talking about? Ghosts and spirits, and here I am, pregnant!”
Kayla put on a scared face, trying to inch closer to Clyde, but he sidestepped
her.
He stood up, took my hand, and said, “Grandpa, if it’s all a misunderstanding, we should head back.”
Without hesitation, he led me away.
He was silent the whole ride back, but his pursed lips said plenty.
He didn’t bring it up, and I didn’t offer any explanations.
Believe it or not, it was all the same to me.
Eventually, he couldn’t hold back. “Didn’t you say you were meeting Eliana?”
“Her cousin just got back. We had dinner, and Eliana had to leave early.”
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Chapter 95
He seemed to choke on my explanation before finally mumbling, “Her cousin doesn’t seem like good news, knocked a man out with one punch.”
I looked at him, speechless. Had he forgotten he could do the same back in college?
Finally, I sighed, “He’s a doctor. That guy had liver issues; he didn’t even hit him
hard.”
After saying that, I felt my explanation was pointless and decided to drop it. But Clyde clearly wasn’t convinced, continuing to probe.
When we got home, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Clyde! He’s a doctor. I’m dying, and he was here to see me. Are you happy
now?”
He was taken aback for a moment, then looked at me impatiently.
“Melanie, why do you always do this? What’s the point in cursing yourself? Even if you’re upset, there’s no need to say that. Ever heard of a self–fulfilling prophecy?”
I closed my eyes, no longer wanting to argue, and headed straight for the
room.
I had warned him plenty of times. He had many opportunities to understand my condition, but he never took them.
He had time to track down where our wedding rings ended up, time to confirm which hospital I visited, but never bothered to check which department I was
in.
He didn’t care about this and I was truly exhausted.
When Clyde knocked on my door, I was already fed up.
“Stop looking for me. I’m really tired. I’m taking a few days off work.”
Clyde lingered at the door before finally uttering a “fine.”
The next morning, as soon as Clyde left, headed to the private hospital where Warren worked.
His family had a legacy in medicine, with several chain hospitals back home.
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I had mentioned wanting privacy for my treatment, and he immediately made
arrangements.
After reviewing my case, Warren’s expression finally changed.
“You’re both lucky and unlucky. It’s rare for someone to have a successful surgery after a second relapse, and those who do relapse a second time are few.
“The cancer cells can be eradicated for now, but it’ll take a toll on your health. There’s no magic cure yet.
“However, the new drug I was researching in Aurorea could help patients like you. Are you willing to try?”
I nodded eagerly, not wanting to give up on any ray of hope.
Remembering Eliana’s words, I asked cautiously, “Eliana mentioned you were working on a new drug.”
“That’s for if you relapse a third time, and it’s still in clinical trials.”
I was speechless, realizing that blessings and curses come hand in hand. My chances of recovery weren’t looking great.
I
My gaze fell to my flat belly, and I hesitantly asked, “Will I relapse again?”
“It’s uncertain, let’s start with medication to control it.”
“Can I have children in the future?”
Warren adjusted his glasses, replying, “Yes, you can, but there’s no guarantee it won’t affect the child.”
He spoke in a way that was frustratingly nonchalant, but I didn’t dare get angry with him.
“If your body is in good condition after proper care, maybe there’s a possibility in three years.”
“Will the child inherit cancer?”
This was my biggest concern.
Warren glanced at my file again, saying, “Your family’s situation is unique. There’s no definitive research proving cancer is hereditary, but with a family
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history, the child’s risk of illness significantly increases, like in your case.”
His blunt words were harsh, but knowing I had no family left, it prepared me mentally for what was ahead.
He prescribed some medication and watched me silently.
“If you’re planning on having children, take good care of yourself and be mindful of the medication. I’m working on genetic research to try and spare your child from suffering.”
His words gave me a sliver of hope, only for him to douse it immediately.
“As I said, in three years, if there’s no relapse. Given your current condition, trying for a child now would be fatal for both. Don’t even think about it.”
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