The Breeding Deal: Brother-in-law's Forbidden Offer - Chapter 39
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Chapter 39: Wither
After yesterday’s surgery, Ethan was immediately moved to the sterile ward to begin chemotherapy.
The visiting rules in the sterile ward were even stricter than in the previous special care unit. Family members could only see patients through a window and communicate via intercom. Visits were limited to 30 minutes per day. Christine and Rebecca worked out a schedule, each taking 15 minutes to talk with Ethan.
Christine came to the hospital afternoon. Ethan lay in bed, facing the ceiling. She couldn’t make out his expression.
In that moment, Christine realized she hadn’t seen Ethan smile in what felt like forever. The vibrant, energetic man in her memories now lay buried in white sheets, his figure almost lost among the blinking machines and transparent tubes.
For Ethan’s myeloid leukemia, the first phase of chemotherapy required intravenous anthracycline drugs, including daunorubicin and idarubicin.
The side effects typically included severe vomiting. Last night was Ethan’s first treatment, and his reaction was intense. The nurse told Christine this morning that he’d been throwing up all night. Even anti-nausea medication didn’t help much. By the end, he was only bringing up green bile, shaking in his bed, barely able to turn over.
Watching his chest rise and fall slightly, Christine felt like a thousand needles were piercing her heart. She could hardly breathe.
With their precious visiting time ticking away, she picked up the intercom. After a moment’s hesitation, she spoke softly: “Ethan?”
“…Mm.”
He continued staring at the ceiling, avoiding her gaze.
Fighting back her sadness, Christine spoke gently, “I brought you new pajamas. And I had the new family nutritionist work out some recipes – applesauce, and steamed broccoli – the way you like it. “The nurse said I can bring these in. They shouldn’t make you sick-”
When she mentioned “sick,” Ethan’s body visibly tensed.
“Don’t… bother with all that.”
“The nurses… will take care of… me.”
His voice came through the intercom moments later, hoarse and strained.
Christine knew Ethan didn’t want to see her here.
Ever since he got sick, she’d been walking on eggshells during her hospital visits, terrified of saying or doing anything that might upset his recovery.
But it seemed that nothing she said or did mattered – just like now, he wouldn’t even look at her.
She knew what was going through his mind. He was probably thinking the chemo would fail, that all this treatment was pointless, just wasting everyone’s time.
“Don’t worry,” she said softly. “Everyone goes through this rough patch at the start of chemo. The doctor said you’ll recover within a year. Just please cooperate with the treatment, okay?”
Ethan’s eyelids fluttered a few times, then closed completely. He didn’t respond.
Through the intercom, she could only hear his faint breathing.
Christine felt her heart breaking, along with a wave of helpless frustration.
She knew she shouldn’t feel this way – after all, he was the one suffering in that hospital bed. But she couldn’t control these sudden emotions: she loved him and wanted him to live; he loved her but wanted her to leave. How could their love cause so much pain when they cared for each other so deeply?
This overwhelming ache was something she couldn’t share with anyone.
After her 15-minute visit ended, Christine held back her tears until she reached the bathroom. Only after washing her face did she emerge, acting normal as she told Rebecca she was heading home.
Tomorrow was Labor Day, the first Monday in September. Usually, the family would gather to celebrate. Rebecca said she’d stay at the hospital with Ethan. Christine promised to bring some food later.
Before leaving, she glanced one last time at his room. Ethan’s eyes remained closed.
Rebecca noticed the tension. “What’s wrong?” she asked through the intercom. “Did you two fight?”
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“…”
After a moment of silence, Ethan suddenly opened his eyes. He lifted his head slightly to look at his mother, his eyes full of despair and defeat. “Mom, tell me the truth. I’m not going to get better, am I?”
“How can you say that!” Rebecca exclaimed, her eyes widening behind the glass. “The chief doctor told us your treatment will show results within a year. After that, you’ll live normally. Don’t talk nonsense – trust what Mom’s saying.”
But Ethan didn’t share her optimism.
When they first confirmed the treatment plan, he’d had hope about chemotherapy. Last night, he’d asked the nurse for his test results and saw his medical indicators for the first time.
He’d done his research. With his current numbers, the chance of a full recovery was less than 1%. The other 99% of patients barely survived on machines for years, dying quickly once they left the hospital.
Rebecca kept going on about what a lucky man he was, with incredible taste for finding a perfect wife like Christine. How beautiful, gentle, and caring she was, ready to look after him for life.
But that was exactly what Ethan absolutely, absolutely, absolutely did not want from Christine.
He wished she could be selfish and cruel – divorce him immediately, even take his money and disappear. She should find a new man and live a happy, free life.
But instead? Not only was she staying, she wanted to keep the baby. She was willing to waste her youth taking care of him.
He couldn’t bear to watch the most beautiful flower in this world wither because of him.
*
As the driver took Christine home, they passed through residential areas. She noticed people loading grills into their cars. It reminded her of last Labor Day, when she and Ethan had hosted a barbecue in their backyard. His friends had teased him for burning the meat.
The memory made her eyes dim with sadness.
When she got home, she found Sophie in the kitchen making apple pie, just laying the bottom crust in the pan. Sophie mentioned it was Labor Day tomorrow, and she’d bought plenty of green apples for everyone to enjoy together, planning to do some house cleaning too.
Needing a distraction, Christine washed her hands and joined in. She stood next to Sophie, cutting apples while listening to Sophie and the housekeeper share childhood stories. It was entertaining.
Soon, they had a mountain of apple chunks, and one pie was already baking. The kitchen filled with rich cinnamon scent. Sophie, wearing thick oven mitts, pulled out the pie and carefully cut slices for everyone.
Just as Christine raised a piece to her mouth, Adrian came downstairs.
He seemed fresh from the shower, his bangs still wet against his forehead, making his eyes look even more intense.
Christine’s hand froze halfway to her mouth. She hadn’t known he was home.
After a moment, she managed to say, “…Adrian.”
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