Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Ella
A week later, I finally saw my sister Maya again.
She lay in bed wearing a loose hospital gown, holding a book. When she saw me walk in with Lucas, surprise flickered across her face.
"Been a while."
Lucas just gave Maya a distant nod. That counted as a greeting for them.
"Ella." Maya set down her book, her voice weak but clear.
I went to her and took her hand. It felt cold, the skin tinged yellow—side effects from years of dialysis.
My throat tightened, but I pushed it down. Like always, I started doing what I could.
I pulled out her favorite dried cranberries from my bag, along with vitamin supplements, placing them one by one in the bedside table drawer.
Then came the pill organizer. I opened it and counted each pill, checking dosages and quantities for mistakes.
When I discovered Maya had skipped two blood pressure pills again, I sighed, dumped everything out to reorganize, peeled off the old labels, and stuck on new dates. She never remembered these things.
I'd done these little tasks so many times they'd become muscle memory. Usually, I'd chat with her while I worked, the atmosphere light as an afternoon breeze. When I finished, I'd curl up on the old couch for a nap, often waking just as visiting hours ended.
These weekly visits were my only relief.
But today felt different.
Because Lucas stood by the door.
He'd insisted on coming to the sanatorium today. God knows why. In front of Mr. Rockefeller, I couldn't refuse. I didn't want to worry the old man.
From the moment I got in his car, he'd maintained that cold, aristocratic distance, not saying a word to me. Same now. Leaning against the doorframe, head down, playing with his phone. Not helping with anything. Yet his presence filled the room like a boulder, making the air itself feel thin.
Whenever he looked up from his phone, his eyes landed on me.
Beneath those high brow bones, his gray-blue eyes hid in shadow, reflecting impatience.
He never said he was in a hurry, but I knew he hated being here.
As if because of me, he had to waste his precious time in this place.
Every time he looked over, my palms broke out in sweat.
My movements grew clumsier, each joint stiff as rusted metal.
Suddenly, Lucas's phone rang.
"I need to take this." He turned and walked out.
I collapsed onto the couch like a deflated balloon, gasping for air.
"Ella." Maya's voice drifted over. "Is there something you want to tell me?"
Eyes closed, I shook my head. "I don't want to talk right now."
"You two haven't exchanged a single word."
I opened my eyes. "What?"
"You and Lucas," Maya repeated. "Not a single word."
I met Maya's gaze. Her eyes were clear and sharp, like she'd already seen through everything. My stomach clenched, as if something had grabbed hold of it.
This was the second time Maya had asked me something like this. Knowing her, if she wasn't already certain, she wouldn't ask again.
I couldn't hide it anymore.
I bit my lip, hesitating. But finally I spoke.
"Maya, I..." I clenched my fists, nails digging into flesh, pain giving me strength. "I want to divorce Lucas."
The moment the words left my mouth, I felt lighter. No more lies to Maya.
I held my breath, waiting for her reaction. The expected shock never came. Maya just leaned back against her pillow and let out a long breath.
"Ella, I raised you. I know all your little tells when you're lying."
"Maya, I—" I tried to comfort her, but my throat closed up.
"Save the bedside manner." Maya cut me off gently, a bitter smile crossing her lips.
"I know you only walked into that manor for my medical bills.
Every check deposited into the hospital account felt like I was selling you out.
I've been dragging you down. If you want a divorce, I'm all for it.
We may be poor, but we don't have to sacrifice your whole life. "
My sister's rationality caught my suspended heart like solid ground. Tears instantly filled my eyes, all that fear compressed in my chest finally finding release.
"But I don't know if divorce is the right thing..."
"Do what you want to do."
"No," I interrupted her. "I'm pregnant."
Maya's breathing stopped. Her grip on my hand tightened, almost painfully. After a long silence, she asked in a shocked tone, "How far along?"
"About two months."
She closed her eyes, the veins on her thin hands standing out, as if a tsunami raged inside her.
Finally, she opened her eyes again, rational sharpness returning.
"Ella, if this were just between you and him, I'd take you away without hesitation.
But now we face reality. This child is Rockefeller blood.
That man can be a terrible husband, but he has to be a father. That's his obligation."
"But he doesn't love me, Maya! He won't even look at me!"
"That's separate," Maya said, her voice weak but firm.
"Divorce ends your suffering and his. But a child is a child.
Even after a divorce, the child is an independent being.
He should have everything that's rightfully his.
You don't have the right to decide for the child, Ella.
Tell Lucas you're pregnant. Don't let your child repeat what we went through, scraping by at the bottom. "
Tears streaming, I nodded. I had to admit she was right. From the child's perspective, this was the best choice. As the mother, I couldn't be selfish, couldn't ruin its life on impulse.
Maya's eyes held encouragement. "Go tell him, Ella. You've already decided on divorce. It can't get worse than that."
I wiped my tears, straightened my appearance, and gathered courage to leave the room.
The corridor was dark and cold, swallowing my figure bit by bit.
My mind spun in chaos. Seven months until the baby arrived, then the long nursing period, talking, walking.
.. at least two or three years inseparable from the mother.
If I didn't want to leave the child during that time, I'd have to keep living at the manor, enduring Lucas's cold violence, enduring Vivian's provocations.
But for the child, I had to endure it. As long as Lucas acknowledged the child's existence, as long as he loved the child, for the child's future, maybe I could bear it a little longer. That was a mother's duty.
I walked the corridors and stairways two or three times without finding Lucas.
Finally, I had to ask at the nurses' station.
Under the nurse's puzzled look, I awkwardly described him. "He's wearing a dark gray suit, very tall, with gray-blue eyes..."
"Oh, that very handsome gentleman is your husband?" I caught a strange note of pity in the nurse's voice. She pointed down the hall. "He asked me where Professor Williams's office was. Should be in the medical wing."
Why would Lucas see Professor Williams?
It made no sense. At Rockefeller Manor, a private medical team stood ready twenty-four-seven. Every family member had top-level clearance at New York's best private hospitals. He had no reason to seek medical help at a sanatorium.
Unless it was a secret that couldn't go through the family medical system.
My stomach twisted into a knot.
Professor Williams was indeed a first-rate doctor. After retiring from public hospitals, she occasionally did charity work at the sanatorium. She knew all specialties, but her most renowned contribution was in obstetrics.
Obstetrics...
A terrible feeling rose in my chest.
Did he find out I'm pregnant?
No, impossible. I'd disposed of all the pregnancy tests. And if he knew, why wouldn't he tell me?
My throat tightened with uncontrollable fear. Panic nearly swallowed me whole.
I couldn't think anymore. I quickened my pace toward the medical wing.
Before reaching Professor Williams's office, I deliberately held my breath and softened my footsteps.
Stronger than the humiliation of seeing Lucas and Vivian's photo in the paper—shame boiled in my chest. I had to know the truth.
The office door wasn't fully closed.
The moment I approached, that familiar voice drilled into my ears.
Deep, magnetic, tinged with anxiety.
"Professor Williams, with twins, severe morning sickness, what measures should be taken to reduce the suffering?"
Twins?
My head buzzed like something had slammed into it. Everything went black.
Lucas wasn't here for me. I hadn't even scheduled a proper prenatal checkup yet, so the woman pregnant with twins couldn't possibly be me.
This was why he came to the sanatorium. However impatient, however glued to his phone, he hadn't left. His purpose from the start wasn't to accompany me. It was finding a leading obstetric specialist for the woman he truly loved and her children.
I felt cold all over, shaking, barely able to stand. But I still forced myself through the dizziness, almost masochistically peering through the door crack, compelling myself to witness the truth.
Lucas stood with his back to me at the consultation desk. Beside him stood a woman gazing at him with tender devotion.
That profile. I'd recognize it anywhere.
Vivian.
My world collapsed in that instant.
Suddenly, I understood.
I understood why Vivian had come to confront me yesterday with that twisted expression. She'd known Lucas for over ten years, worked alongside him for two. She already had Lucas. She had no reason to see me as a rival worth provoking.
Unless...
Vivian was pregnant!
Everything she'd done was a mother's instinct. She needed to drive me away, seamlessly become the new Mrs. Rockefeller, secure her children's position in the family, and inherit all the Rockefeller wealth and prestige.
As for Lucas, he already had the woman he loved and the children she was carrying. How could he possibly care about my child?
Pathetic that I'd been fantasizing just minutes ago! That if I could just endure enough, I could keep living at the manor.
Impossible now. Not only would Vivian never accept it, but even Lucas himself could never treat my child well!
I don't remember how I got back to Maya's room.
I only remember crying the whole way, tears I couldn't stop, like a broken faucet, streaming down. When I reached the room, I scared Maya. She shut the door, pulled me to the bed, anxiously asking what happened—didn't I go find Lucas? Why was I crying so hard?
Lucas's name bit me like a viper. I broke into sobs again, pouring out everything I'd just seen, everything from the past two years.
What Lucas had done completely shattered me.
I couldn't keep enduring. I spoke in a mess, choppy and incoherent, but I knew she understood.
She held me tight the whole time, never interrupting, just occasionally patting my back, letting me know she was listening, she was there.
I don't know how long I cried, until my tears finally dried up, my voice too hoarse to speak, and I gradually calmed down.
Maya laid my head on her lap, passing her warmth to me. I felt her body trembling too. It made me regret telling her, made my heart ache.
Maya suddenly spoke. "Ella, do you remember? Two years after Dad died, Mom abandoned us."
I looked up at her.
Tears glistened in Maya's eyes.
"From that moment on, I swore I'd never let you suffer again." She patted my hand gently, like an elder stating long-established facts. Though barely older than me, she'd shouldered life's burdens too young.
"So when you said you were pregnant, my first thought was to give the child a happy family."
She paused, her gaze falling to my belly. Nothing showed yet, but we both knew a small life was growing there.
"But your child will be abandoned by Lucas from birth." Her voice dropped, her eyes growing serious.
Silent tears rolled down my face again. I knew Maya wasn't finished, because I'd been abandoned by Lucas, too. The child and I were repeating the fate I'd lived through as a child.
"Since you've decided on divorce, let's leave this place." Maya paused. "The doctors say I'll get a kidney donor within a year at most. Once I'm healthy, we'll raise the child together."
The ice in my chest melted. My sister was family, always my support.
"Actually," I took a deep breath, trying to speak clearly, "when I started planning the divorce, I already decided where we'd go.
We'll move to Rochester, Minnesota. There's a specialized kidney hospital there, with dialysis equipment and medical teams among the best in the country.
It'll ease your pain and get you a donor sooner. "
"Ha," Maya laughed, but her eyes shone bright. "So you had it all planned before you told me, huh?"
I felt a spark of happiness. "I can grow up too, you know. Sister."
I'd always known—the only reason Maya was willing to stay trapped in this mediocre sanatorium was to be close to the manor, to watch over my happiness every weekend.
Maya nodded. Her eyes were red.
"Let's go handle the transfer paperwork now."