Chapter 811
Lizetta rushed her baby into the emergency room while Remington had already called ahead, ensuring that two pediatric doctors were quickly on hand to provide care. Half an hour later, Lizetta was settling down in the pediatric ward with the baby in her arms. The little one had an IV needle taped to his head, receiving fluids. Though his cheeks were still flushed, his breathing had eased, and the frightening convulsions had stopped.Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.
"The little guy should be fine once his fever goes down. Mr. and Mrs. Dashiell, you can help by wiping down his palms, armpits, and the back of his neck to help reduce his fever. There's no need to worry too much," the doctor reassured Remington and Lizetta with a humble demeanor. He had not only misunderstood Remington and Lizetta's relationship but also mistakenly assumed the baby was theirs.
Remington paused, his brow furrowing slightly as his heart clenched with worry. He feared the doctor's words might touch on Lizetta's deepest wound, bringing back her pain. However, when Remington turned to Lizetta, worried, he saw her sitting on the hospital bed, cradling the baby carefully in her arms. She looked down at the baby with a worried yet focused expression, as if she hadn't heard the doctor at all. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast a quiet, gentle glow over them, creating a scene as beautiful as a movie frame. Remington's voice caught in his throat, his breathing a bit unsteady. "We'll take good care of him, thank you," he said, his gaze lingering on the scene in front of him, responding warmly to the doctor beside him. Seeing his evident concern for his wife and child, the doctor tactfully made a gesture and quietly left the room with everyone else, even thoughtfully closing the door behind him.
"Don't worry, the baby just has a common viral infection that led to the emergency. He'll wake up once his fever comes down," Lizetta said, her attention fully on the baby, as if she had blocked out everything else around her. It wasn't until Remington's soothing, deep voice sounded above her that Lizetta looked up to find him standing in front of her, his gaze tender and soft. His silhouette was blurred by the soft light, making his features seem even more profound.
Lizetta's eyelashes fluttered, her lips parting slightly. "If our Daisy were still here..." Her voice was so light, like a barely perceptible breeze. The words were barely finished before they faded away, as if whispered into the pale air. But how could Remington not understand her feelings at that moment? Just like him, he was thinking how wonderful it would be if their Daisy were still with them. If Daisy had grown up healthy, she probably would have been just like this baby, a tiny bundle of energy, crying out loud yet utterly dependent on her mother...
Thinking this, Remington leaned in, wrapping his arms around Lizetta and the baby she held. Lizetta's head bowed, perhaps because the moment felt like a dream, or maybe because she craved this fleeting sweetness. She didn't resist, allowing him to hold them. The baby's softness, the scent of milk mingling with the familiar musky fragrance of the man, wafted to Lizetta's nose. Her eyes started to burn, and she closed them, feeling a sour rain falling in her heart, bit by bit eroding her with pain.
"Where's the baby's mom?" Reality always has a way of intruding on such moments. The baby stirred in her arms, and Lizetta opened her eyes, suddenly realizing that the baby's mother hadn't followed them into the room. Remington had noticed this too but didn't seem to mind. In fact, seeing Lizetta care so much for the little one, he wasn't keen on having the moment disturbed by the baby's actual mother.