Chapter 23 The man in the hallway
CHAPTER 23: The man in the hallway
Vera
Hospitals have always had a way of making me feel like the worst was happening. And then it had a way of awfully shrinking time…stretching minutes into long, quiet hours that echo with other people’s anxieties.
I sat in the lounge with my hands folded neatly over my purse, my knees pressed together, my spine straight despite the nervous flutter rolling low in my stomach.
Today I wasn’t in the hospital because of an illness, but it still didn't take the edge off.
Around me, muted conversations murmured, nurses passed with clipped efficiency, and somewhere down the corridor, a baby cried…thin, sharp, alive.
I swallowed, my hand going straight to my stomach.
I would have a real, living, wailing baby in my arms in months to come.
And for that reason, I was here at the hospital to check that everything was okay.
I hadn’t told Silas I was coming.
The thought made my chest tighten, though I couldn’t say exactly why. Maybe it was fear, or sheer nerves.
But it wasn't rebellion. It was instinct, the growing maternal instinct to make sure that everything was okay.
I needed to know.
For my sanity, for my body, for the quiet life growing inside me that already felt heavier than it should.
“Miss Bennett?”
I looked up.
“Yes,” I answered, then hesitated, the word suddenly foreign on my tongue. “Actually… It's Mrs Rutherford.”
The nurse blinked once, then nodded with professional smoothness.
“Of course, Mrs Rutherford. Sorry about that. You can come in now.”
I was aware of the small stares that followed me down the hall, along with the title…like an unfamiliar coat…too large, too new.
But it was my new reality, and I didn’t shrug it off.
I held onto it.
Inside the doctor’s office, everything was sterile white and soft blue, the air smelling faintly of antiseptic and something floral…trying, unsuccessfully, to soften it.
The doctor was an elderly woman with silver hair and a kind smile.
I perched on the chair, fiddling with the ring on my finger while she reviewed my file, her expression calm, unhurried.
“So this is your first OB-GYN visit?” she asked kindly.
“Yes,” I said, my voice quiet. “My first.”
“And your first pregnancy too?”
I nodded, twice.
“Will the father be joining us?” She asked. “Your husband?” Her gaze flicked briefly to the ring on my finger.
I shook my head. “No. It's just me today.”
She smiled. “All right. We’ll take it step by step.”
I expelled a quiet breath of relief, grateful that she didn't probe further.
The examination passed in a blur of sensations and instructions, my heart thudding loudly in my ears. I still couldn't believe that it all was happening.
Then came the moment that made it all real.
During the ultrasound, she finally turned the monitor toward me, the room seemed to still.
“There,” she said gently. “That’s your baby.”
My breath caught.
It wasn’t much more than a small, unmistakable blip, but it was there. Real. Alive.
That was my baby.
At that moment, it sunk in deeply.
I was really pregnant. I was going to be a mother.
“You’re about eight weeks along,” the doctor continued. “Two months. Everything looks good so far.”
My eyes burned. “Everything's… okay?”
She nodded. “Very much so. But you’ll need to be careful. Avoid stress as much as possible. Rest. Eat well. You’re in good shape. But your body is doing important work, and it would be better to take more caution.”
I laughed softly, a broken sound, my eyes still on the screen. “That might be harder than it sounds.”
She gave me a knowing look. “It often is.”
“Can I get a copy of the ultrasound, please?”
I wanted to show it to Lily and Cherry.
“Of course, dear. I’ll have the nurse prepare it.”
Some minutes later, I was stepping out of the doctor’s office, clutching the ultrasound printouts and some test results to my chest.
My emotions tangled into something overwhelming…somethimg i could hardly name, because it was a mix of different things: relief, fear, excitement, disbelief.
I was smiling and trembling all at once, my heart full despite the circumstances that surrounded my conception.
The unanswered question that still hovered in the background: I didn’t know who the father was.
Only Damien knew.
But the baby was mine, and it was healthy. And Silas had promised to give it his name and protect it. For now, that was enough. And I was grateful.
I turned the corner and collided with someone solid.
“Oh—!” I gasped.
The papers flew from my hands, fluttering like startled birds before scattering across the floor. I crouched immediately, panic flaring as I reached for them.
“I’m so sorry.”
It was a man’s voice, low, oddly measured.
“I wasn’t looking,” I replied breathlessly, still gathering the papers together.
He knelt too, his movements unhurried. He began to help me gather some of the papers. I glanced at him briefly and noticed he wore a black baseball cap pulled low and a face mask that hid most of his features, but something about him set my nerves on edge.
Too still. Too deliberate.
A bit familiar.
Our fingers brushed as we gathered the papers, and I instinctively shrunk back...like I had been bitten.
He picked a paper and paused. Then he slowly straightened, eyes fixed on the paper in his hand.
I froze.
It was the ultrasound.
My stomach dropped as I straightened slowly, my breath shallow.
As I rose, my gaze lifted and locked onto him, fully.
Goosebumps rose on my skin, and my chest constricted in foreboding.
Even with the mask, even with the cap shadowing his face, I knew. My body…and senses knew.
The shape of him. That unmistakable build and physique. That coldness and danger. The familiarity that slammed into me like a memory I’d tried to bury.
Damien.
My blood turned cold.
He held the ultrasound between two fingers, studying it for a beat too long.
Then his eyes flicked up to mine, dark and unsettlingly calm.
Those same cold steely gray eyes. It had to be him.
“Congratulations,” he said quietly, handing it back to me.
My hands shook as I took it. I couldn’t speak. My chest felt too tight, my lungs refusing to cooperate.
It was him. I was sure of it.
“Vera.”
The sound of my name sliced through the shroud of shock that had encased me. But it wasn't from the man in front of me.
Silas’s voice sounded behind me, sharp and unmistakable.
I spun around, heart racing. “Silas—”
He was standing a few feet behind me, face unreadable.
When I turned back—
The man was gone.
And the hallway was suddenly empty, as if he had never been there at all.