Chapter 37
JIYA
What happens if I run into Caleb? The question circled relentlessly in my mind as the highway stretched endlessly ahead. What will I say to him? How will I react if I see him standing there in front of me? And what will he say to me after everything that’s happened between us?
I shut my eyes for a moment.
Cole’s face flashed in my mind, pulling me back to the moment in my bedroom.
My heart had been racing from how close we had been together there.
I had been standing in nothing but a towel, and the way he had been looking at me made it feel as though something inevitable was about to happen between us.
Then my phone rang.
I hadn’t wanted that moment to end.
It had been perfect.
Cole had simply nodded, a small knowing smile tugging at his lips before he turned and walked out of the room. My eyes followed him until he disappeared down the hallway. A part of me had wanted to call him back, to ask him to stay.
Instead, I called Elle back.
“I don’t know if you want to know this,” she said carefully.
As I paced across my bedroom floor, clutching the towel against my chest, Elle explained that a woman and a child had been brought into the hospital where she had recently started working after being hit by a car while crossing the street.
They urgently needed A-negative blood. Then she said the words that knocked the air out of my lungs.
“It’s Caleb’s mother… and his niece, Malaika.”
A cold chill had spread through my body as I sank onto the edge of the bed. The last time I had seen Malaika was when I had saved her from Jeremy—his name alone still capable of twisting my stomach.
When Elle suggested I donate blood, bitterness rose inside me, like poison creeping through my veins.
I wanted nothing to do with Caleb’s family anymore, not after everything Eleanor had done—after the photographs she had placed in my hands that had destroyed my life with Caleb.
It’d been her final victory—removing me from her son’s life.
“I understand,” Elle had said softly. “But what about the child? Did you save her from Jeremy only for her to die now because there isn’t enough blood? Would you feel the same way if something like this happened to Lucas or Emma?”
Her words had struck straight through me.
I thought of Lucas.
Emma.
Of Simon and Sandra, terrified for their daughter.
In the end, I couldn’t ignore it.
“I’m on my way,” I told her.
I dressed quickly and rushed downstairs.
Cole was sitting in the kitchen with the children when I told Geeta I’d be back in the afternoon.
Then I turned to him. “I have to go,” I said, my voice hurried. “I’ll explain later.”
Before I could overthink it, I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then I walked out the door, leaving him standing there watching me leave.
By the time I reached Elle’s house, a sense of déjà vu washed over me.
The last time I had been here was for Patty’s funeral.
And now, once again, I had been pulled back toward the past because of an emergency.
It felt as though my life had a cruel way of dragging me back to places I had fought so hard to leave behind.
Elle drove me down to the hospital.
The closer we got, the harder my heart pounded in my chest.
I reached into my bag and pulled out a scarf, wrapping it around my head the same way I had the last time I went to Patty’s funeral to avoid being recognized. After tying it securely, I searched through my bag again until I found my sunglasses and slipped them on.
Minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot.
“I’ll meet you at my desk when you’re done,” Elle said as she parked. “Good luck.”
I nodded and stepped out of the car.
Walking into the hospital felt strangely familiar.
Just two days ago, I had been praying desperately for Cole to survive. This time, I was praying for Caleb’s niece and mother to pull through.
If I was being honest with myself, my prayers were mostly for his niece.
Inside, I approached the reception desk.
“I’m here to donate blood for the Evans’ accident victims,” I told the woman behind the counter.
She nodded and led me into a small office where a nurse prepared to take a sample. A quick prick of the needle followed, and an ampule of blood was sent to the lab for testing. After a few minutes, another nurse returned and guided me into the doctor’s office.
“Thank you very much for coming forward,” the Hispanic doctor with kind brown eyes said. “Would you like to meet the family? They would be very thankful.”
“No!”
The word left my mouth so quickly and loudly that the doctor instinctively stepped back.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, clearing my throat. “I would like to remain anonymous, please.”
“Of course.” He nodded in understanding.
He asked me to follow him to the room where the blood donation would take place. As I walked behind him, my eyes unintentionally drifted toward the waiting area.
Sandra stood there, tears streaming down her face as Simon held her close, comforting her.
My breath caught in my throat.
Then my gaze shifted slightly—and my heart sank.
Randall Evans.
Caleb’s father.
I barely recognized him.
He had aged so much since the last time I had seen him. His shoulders looked thinner, his face more hollow.
Why has he lost so much weight? I hoped his health was still okay. The last time I had seen Randall was at the hospital after Caleb and I had both been shot by Jeremy.
Randall was the reason Caleb had come into my life in the first place.
Before my thoughts could spiral further, I quickly looked away and hurried into the donation room.
Sitting down in the chair, I let the nurse prepare the equipment. The procedure took about half an hour, and before long it was over.
“You need to rest for about ten minutes,” the doctor said afterward. “I’ve kept a glass of juice and a sandwich here. Make sure you eat it before you leave.”
I nodded, taking the juice. After a moment of hesitation, I looked up at him again. “Would it be possible to see the recipients just for a minute?” I asked quietly. “I just wanted to wish them good luck.”
I didn’t want to see Eleanor. After what Elle had said earlier, I felt the urge to see Malaika—just once—and tell her that everything would be okay.
“I’m sorry, but that’s not possible,” the doctor replied. “Hospital policy.” He paused before continuing. “By the way, I informed the family that someone came forward to donate. Since you wanted to stay anonymous, they asked me to give you this.”
He handed me an envelope.
“I’ll be back soon.”
Once he left, I slowly finished the juice and opened the envelope.
A white card with elegant gold lettering slid out first.
It read: Thank you.
When I opened the card, another piece of paper slipped out and fluttered to the floor. I bent down to pick it up. Turning it over, my eyes widened.
It was a cheque for $20,000.
Most people would have been overjoyed to receive that kind of money. But all I felt was a familiar ache in my chest.
The cheque immediately reminded me of Eleanor. Her cruel words echoed in my mind, each one still capable of cutting deep. She had made it painfully clear that I was never good enough for her son.
And yet here I was.
Saving her life.
Soon, my blood would be running through Eleanor’s veins.
I looked back down at the card and read the message written inside.
Whoever you are, I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for saving my daughter, and thank you for saving my mother. I will forever remain grateful. I hope this small token of thanks will help you.— Simon Evans
My chest squeezed.
Quietly, I placed the cheque back into the envelope but kept the card.
After finishing the sandwich, the doctor returned.
“Please return this envelope to them for me,” I said, handing it back.
“Sure,” he replied with a warm smile.
When I left the room and began walking toward Elle’s desk, I noticed the doctor approaching Simon in the waiting area.
He handed him the envelope.
Simon looked confused at first.
Then he opened it.
Even from across the room, I could see the surprise on his face when he realized what had happened.
When I finally reached Elle’s desk, I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “Do you think you can get me to see Malaika before she goes in for surgery?”
Elle immediately shook her head. “I can’t do that. It’s not allowed,” she whispered.
“Please,” I said quietly. “This is important to me. I won’t be long, I promise.”
She studied my face before sighing. “Fine,” she said finally, standing up. “Follow me and stay close.”
Elle tapped her access card against the panel, and the soft click of the lock echoed in the quiet hallway.
I followed her into the room where Eleanor and Malaika lay.
My steps slowed the moment I crossed the threshold.
The anesthesiologist had just finished sedating Eleanor and was leaving the room. She lay motionless on the hospital bed, completely unconscious.
I looked at her.
She looked the same.
Her skin was pale under the hospital lights, but the sharpness she carried remained. Even sedated, she looked harsh… cold.
My eyes shifted to the other bed.
Malaika.
Ten years old now.
The last time I had seen her, she had been so much smaller. Now she looked older, taller, though the fear and exhaustion on her young face made my chest tense.
I walked slowly to her bedside and sat down.