Hamish choked up, his voice almost squeezed out of his throat as he struggled to ask, “After the removal of her uterus, can she still get pregnant and have children?”
The nurse’s expression remained grim, but now there was something else in her eyes, a discernible disdain if one looked closely.
“What’s the point at this stage, still thinking about having children?”
“Miss Powell’s uterus is weak. It was already affected by external stimuli from a previous miscarriage. After finally conceiving, it was forcefully terminated. Without a uterus, naturally, she can’t conceive again.”
Hamish looked pale, a shadow cast over his features. Elisa had stomach cancer, and to ensure her treatment wasn’t compromised, to cure her illness, this child absolutely could not remain.
He “forcefully” had her tied up for the induced abortion. If he said he felt no pain, it would be a lie. As a father, how he wished to raise this child together with Elisa, to watch the child grow.
But it couldn’t be. This child came at the wrong time.
As Elisa lay in the operating room, he had considered various consequences, such as heavy bleeding, emotional instability, but he hadn’t anticipated that her uterus would present problems requiring its removal.
Hamish glanced at his hands again. No wonder he always saw them stained with blood that no amount of washing could remove.
He had killed his own child twice, and now he had deprived Elisa of motherhood.
Originally, he had some hopes. Medical advancements had made progress in cancer treatment, and it was believed that cancer could soon be completely eradicated. Elisa’s injuries would slowly heal, and she could still have children in the future. But now, with her uterus removed, how could she conceive?
Reality had harshly slapped him. He knew how much Elisa longed to be a mother. How much would she hate him when she woke up?
“Will the removal of the uterus have any other effects on her body?” he asked.
The nurse quickly explained, “There won’t be any other effects on her body. Her life will continue as usual.”
This was already the best outcome for now; as long as Elisa was alive, it was enough.
“Miss Powell needs a blood transfusion now. The longer we wait, the more dangerous it becomes.”
“I understand.” Hamish quickly grabbed a pen and signed two more forms, then took out his phone to compose a tweet.
“When exactly is the engagement scheduled?”
Lila’s mood at this moment was inexplicably cheerful. Her joyous expression seemed out of place amidst the tension and sorrow in the room. Everyone else was either anxious or grieving, but she alone was ecstatic.
How ironic that Elisa’s fate had turned out to be just like hers, or perhaps even worse.
“In two months,” Lila said, her mind swiftly settling on a date. “Let’s make it on the 25th of December. It’s Christmas Day, and our engagement is sure to attract a lot of attention.”
An engagement required considerable arrangement, invitations, and staffing, all of which would take time. Two months would be just right to make proper arrangements.
Back when Elisa and Hamish got married, it was more of a press conference than a wedding. Only a few relatives and friends attended; it was quite a frugal affair. This time, at her engagement, she was determined to make it grand. She would choose the largest and most expensive hotel in Chiwood, hire a five-star restaurant to cater, have live music, and even set up a live broadcast. The whole nation would be able to watch. She wanted Elisa to see the difference between her own wedding and Lila’s engagement.
Hamish quickly finished composing the tweet and sent it out. He didn’t have the Twitter authorization for Burns Group, so he called Tobias. In less than a minute, Tobias had forwarded the tweet he had just sent out.
“Is it okay now?” he asked sternly, looking at her.
The tweet had garnered hundreds of likes, retweets, and comments within moments of being posted. Lila nodded satisfactorily. “It’s fine. Once I’m done with the blood draw, we can also draft an agreement. Just base it on the one Elisa had.”
Seeing Hamish’s grim expression, Lila felt quite good. Finally, she had obtained everything she deserved.
Following the nurse, Lila walked inside, muttering to herself, “I never thought Elisa and I would end up the same, both unable to conceive.” There was no attempt to hide the mockery in her words.
Hamish blankly stared at his phone. He rarely checked Twitter, but now, as he opened the app, the notifications kept climbing, marked by red dots, with tens of thousands of messages flooding his inbox.
The incessant buzzing of his phone made it impossible for him to find peace. HamHamish glanced at the comments below the tweet.
“Hamish and Elisa are getting divorced? How did he end up with Lila so quickly?”
“When will this love triangle ever end? Rich people’s relationships are so hard to understand.”
“How interesting. I remember just two years ago they were in the middle of a divorce lawsuit. Lila even appeared in court, claiming she had no relationship with Hamish, just a sibling-like bond.”
“Men’s words are deceitful.”
Hamish forcefully hurled his phone at the wall. The phone fell, its screen shattering, leaving cracks on the wall, a testament to the force he had used.
A passing staff member startled at the noise, reminded him, “Sir, this is a hospital. Please refrain from causing a disturbance.”