Rebecca had been pacing the corridor outside the operating room for over three hours, each step weighed down by fear and exhaustion. Her palms were clammy, her thoughts chaotic, and despite Timberlake's repeated pleas, she refused to leave the area. But eventually, after much coaxing, she relented and followed him to grab a cup of coffee from the third-floor vending machine.
The warm styrofoam cup trembled slightly in her grip as they walked back in silence. She was halfway through a sip when something… someone, caught her eye.
She froze mid-step.
A tall, broad-shouldered man strolled into the hospital lobby, flanked by five heavily tattooed men. His presence hit her like a slap of icy wind. Her knees weakened, and the coffee nearly slipped from her hand.
Timberlake, a few paces ahead, noticed her sudden stop and rushed back. "Becca?" he asked, voice tight with concern. He steadied the cup before it could fall.
She didn't answer. Her entire body quaked as if she had come face-to-face with death itself.
"Becca, talk to me. You're scaring the hell out of me," Timberlake muttered, watching her closely.
Then her lips curled into a sneer. "How dare that bastard show his stinking face in front of me?"
"Who?" Timberlake followed her line of sight.
When his eyes landed on the tall man in the tailored black suit, hands casually in his pockets and an entourage trailing behind, his stomach dropped. He staggered back, nearly losing balance. Dante.
Before he could speak, Rebecca had already turned on her heel and was storming toward the elevator.
"Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going?" Timberlake called, grabbing her wrist.
"The operating room's that way," he added, gesturing back down the hall.
"I'm going to put an end to that bastard's wretched life," Rebecca snapped, her voice a low snarl. Her tone was laced with so much venom that a few nearby patients turned to stare.
"I'll make sure he pays for the hell he put me through all these years… I'm broken…deep down to my soul, and bitter through and through… all because of him," she said, her voice cracking. Tears welled in her eyes, shimmering with pain and fury.
She yanked her arm free from Timberlake's grasp.
"Becca, listen to me," Timberlake said, catching up and grabbing her arm more firmly this time. "I know what he did to you. I know how deep that wound runs. And you have every right to be angry. But don't forget, your little boy is in there right now, fighting for his life."
Rebecca blinked rapidly, her chest heaving with emotion.
"Yes, you know how to fight," he continued gently, "but do you really think you can take down Dante and those five thugs without risking your life, or others'? This isn't just some brawl in a dark alley, Becca. This could end in blood."
He waited for the words to sink in before adding, "Maxwell may be a lunatic, but he'd never kill you. Can you say the same about Dante?"
Rebecca stood frozen, her breath coming in sharp gasps. Slowly, the tension in her body began to ebb. Her fists unclenched, her posture softened. Timberlake sensed the change and gently let go of her hand.
"Come on," he said softly. "Let's go back. We don't want to miss the nurse rolling him out after surgery."
Rebecca didn't reply. Instead, she turned her head and glared back at the lobby. Her eyes found the last place she had seen Dante. Her voice was barely audible, but each word dripped with vengeful resolve.
"As long as I live, I swear you'll never know peace. One day, I will be the end of you," she vowed under her breath, then turned and walked away.
Three minutes later, they arrived just in time to see Dr. Philip emerging from the operating room. His white coat looked slightly wrinkled, his grey hair damp at the temples, a sign of long hours spent in surgery.
"Doc, how's my little boy?" Rebecca asked, rushing to meet him.
"The surgery was a complete success, Miss Rebecca," Dr. Philip announced with a gentle smile. "Your son is stable. He'll need close monitoring for a few hours, but everything went smoothly."
"Thank you, Doc," Rebecca whispered, a radiant smile breaking through her exhaustion as tears streamed freely down her cheeks.
"Thank you," Timberlake added, his relief evident as he reached out to shake the doctor's hand.
Rebecca returned to pacing outside the operating room, her eyes fixed on the door. Her heart thudded in anticipation, desperate to see her son's face again.
After what felt like an eternity, the doors finally swung open. Nurses wheeled out a small figure, unconscious, fragile, swaddled in a blanket.
Rebecca rushed to his side.
"Well done, sweetheart… You made Momma proud once again," she whispered, brushing her fingers over Jeremy's pale, handsome face. Warm tears slid down her cheeks when her eyes landed on the white bandage covering his right ear.
'I know I haven't been the best mother… but I promise you, from now on, I'll protect you. I'll give you everything you need. You won't go through this pain alone ever again,' she thought, her hand lingering on the edge of the bed before she stepped back to let the nurses through.
From the moment Jeremy was transferred to the Recovery Room, and then later to his private VIP ward, Rebecca never shut her eyes, not even for a minute. Despite her weariness, she stayed by his bedside, refusing to let go.
"I want to be the first person Sweet Peanut sees when he opens his eyes," she repeated to Timberlake every time he gently suggested she take a break.
Eight hours passed.
Rebecca had just stood up to splash cold water on her tired face when she saw it, Jeremy's fingers moved.
"Tim! He just moved his finger!" she gasped, her face lighting up with uncontainable joy.
"Keep your voice down," Timberlake warned softly. "Remember what the doctor said about keeping noise to a minimum. His ear just went through a delicate operation."
"I'll be more careful," she whispered, her voice now hushed and tender as she hurried back to the bed.
Moments later, Jeremy's eyelashes fluttered. His lids slowly lifted, revealing the soft brown eyes Rebecca had missed so dearly.
"Tim, let the nurses know he's awake," Rebecca said quickly, pointing at the button on the wall panel.
She took his tiny hand in both of hers.
"So, how is my little angel feeling?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
"Are you in pain? Do you need anything? Anything at all, sweetheart?" she whispered, smoothing his hair back with trembling fingers.
"Come here, give your momma a hug," she smiled, bending forward to wrap her arms gently around him.