Free Web NovelChapter 339: Chapter 337: Morning Sickness
Yates Donovan held back, careful not to squeeze too tightly. He just loosely wrapped his arms around her, offering support.
Mia Grant was the one who had reached for him, her hand—which she had scratched raw—gripping his forearm in a death grip.
She leaned against his chest, panting, her heart racing wildly. Her words were broken, not even forming sentences.
"I... I... your knife..."
"Caught... him."
"Didn’t... see."
"I’m okay. I’m okay."
She had mumbled a lot of fragmented things before that, which Yates couldn’t piece together.
Probably realizing she couldn’t form a complete sentence, she just kept repeating, "I’m okay."
At first, Yates thought she was trying to calm herself down.
Only later did he understand she was telling *him* that she was okay.
Trying to put him at ease.
He turned his head to look at her sweat-dampened hair, her deathly pale cheeks, her red-rimmed, vacant eyes, her trembling fingertips, and the blood-streaked back of her hand. In that instant, his heart shattered.
She was clearly barely holding on, yet she still tried to reassure him.
He more or less understood now that the scene just now had been a misunderstanding.
She held no hostility toward him.
He sighed and kissed her forehead. "I know, I know. Let me take you upstairs, okay?"
She didn’t struggle.
Medical staff had already gathered around. He gestured with his eyes toward her room.
On the hospital bed, Mia was undergoing an examination.
She seemed to have calmed down, staring blankly at the ceiling, not speaking or moving.
After the doctor confirmed she was all right, he opened the door and left, leaving a nurse to look after her.
In the hallway, Yates was smoking.
Or rather, he was playing with a lighter. The cigarette between his lips remained unlit, and only the grinding sound of the lighter’s flint wheel echoed through the empty corridor.
Hearing the door open, he glanced over.
The doctor nodded at him and approached.
"How is she?"
The doctor shook his head, telling him all her vital signs were currently normal.
"She was acting abnormally just now. Is it an anxiety disorder?"
The doctor thought for a moment, then shook his head again. "I’m not entirely sure, but it seems to be psychological or..."
He glanced cautiously at the man’s expression before finally saying, "A mental illness."
"My recommendation is to have a psychiatrist come see her."
"Are you kidding me?" As expected, upon hearing that particular term, the man’s face turned cold, and he snapped the cigarette in his hand.
Combined with his fierce expression, the doctor felt as though what Yates really wanted to snap wasn’t the cigarette, but his neck.
"Psychological or mental illnesses come in many forms. It might not be as serious as you imagine. We can only make a proper diagnosis after a specialist conducts a systematic examination."
Yates’s brow furrowed tightly. After a few seconds, he waved his hand, dismissing the doctor.
This was the Hughes Family’s hospital, so news from the inpatient department naturally didn’t escape Hayes Hughes. He had just gotten out of surgery, and upon seeing the message, he took off his white coat and hurried over.
The elevators were occupied, so he took the emergency stairs, jogging all the way up.
Yates happened to be standing right next to the stairwell door. When it was pushed open, both men were startled.
Hayes Hughes came out, panting too hard to even catch his breath before asking, "Is she okay?"
Yates sized him up, then tossed the cigarette away. "Good timing. Care to talk?"
Hayes roughly guessed it was about Mia Grant, but he wasn’t in the mood right now. "Hold on, I want to go in and see her first."
"Don’t bother." Yates leaned against the window. "She can’t talk right now. She won’t even acknowledge you if you go in."
"..." Hayes walked to the door of the hospital room. He bent his tall frame slightly, peering inside through the glass window.
From this angle, the figure on the bed looked as if she were asleep.
A nurse was adjusting some equipment beside her, preparing to give her oxygen.
She wasn’t struggling, letting the nurse do as she pleased.
After watching for a few seconds, he straightened up, his gaze falling on Yates.
"This way."
He led the way, finding an empty room to enter.
The door closed. Yates leaned against it and got straight to the point. "Long story short, did you know she has an anxiety disorder?"
"I did."
"Is it serious?"
"I observed her for a while and described some of her symptoms to a psychiatry professor. It’s definitely an anxiety disorder. It wasn’t very serious before. But..."
"What happened to her just now?"
Yates recalled the scene. "Chest tightness, shortness of breath, gasping for air, dry heaving, panic, and an irregular heartbeat."
Hayes frowned. "The physical symptoms of an anxiety disorder mainly manifest in the respiratory, cardiovascular, digestive, urinary, and musculoskeletal systems, as well as sleep disturbances. You’ve described all of them."
"Previously, I only observed her having hand tremors and muscle tension."
Hayes couldn’t figure out the reason. How could it have suddenly gotten so severe when she’d been fine?
"Should we get a doctor to come and provide some counseling?" Yates asked, weighing his words.
He couldn’t make up his mind about this and had to ask Hayes.
"Logically, I know she should receive treatment, or at least undergo a set of basic tests. But..."
Hayes wasn’t an indecisive person. He had a gentle disposition, but that didn’t mean he lacked his own opinions.
Especially given the nature of his work, he rarely found himself unable to make a decision.
After a long moment, he let out a breath and said, "She’ll resist."
"And it’s very likely to backfire."
"If you’re the one to talk to her, she’ll probably listen," Yates urged.
Hayes seemed conflicted for a moment, then finally said, "Not now. Another day. I’ll try when the time is right."
Yates smiled. "Alright."
"So, can you tell me what happened earlier?"
Hayes was concerned about the cause, but he also wanted to use the information to analyze the root of Mia’s anxiety.
Yates shrugged. "You probably won’t believe me, but the truth is, I don’t know."
"Then can you tell me what you did or what you talked about before her emotional state shifted?"
Probably because he was used to communicating with patients, Hayes’s way of speaking had a gentle, coaxing quality to it.
Yates didn’t want to waste his breath, but thinking about how close Hayes and Mia were, he realized Hayes might actually be able to help him find the reason. Reluctantly, he recounted the events that had transpired.
"She just suddenly started dry heaving?"
"Yeah." Yates rubbed his nose sheepishly. "At the time, I thought... she..."
It was a little hard to say.
Hayes stared into his eyes, his tone certain. "You thought it was morning sickness."
Yates didn’t deny it.
"If that were true, it would have been stated in her physical exam report from a few days ago. Your people would have sent you that report immediately, wouldn’t they?"
"Besides, she’s so thin and frail. Other than the dry heaving, what part of her suggests she could be pregnant?"
"Yes, yes." Yates reflected on his mistake and admitted it readily. "I’m an idiot, alright? But I didn’t ask her that to her face. I didn’t say anything. She just gave me one look, pushed me away, and ran."
Hayes’s gaze swept over his face. "Some things don’t need to be said out loud. A look can be just as aggressive."
Yates: "..."
