In the dream, the man offered no response.
An overwhelming wave of grief washed over her. This fleeting illusion of warmth only existed in her dreams, so she clung to him desperately, refusing to let go. "Hubby, I feel so sick..."
"You're sick. You need to take some medicine," his gentle voice replied.
The version of him in her dreams was always so tender.
"No, I won't take it..." Gillian kept murmuring her refusal.
"Then don't. My baby hates bitter things. I'll stay right here with you." He stroked her hair as he spoke.
Hearing such loving words only deepened the suffocating ache in her chest. Only in this fabricated reality was he ever this kind to her. She fought with everything she had to open her eyes and look at him.
When her eyes finally fluttered open, the room was flooded with the glaring light of morning, forcing her to squint.
Gillian's head throbbed with a heavy, dull ache. She rubbed her temples, her throat parched, and touched her forehead—the fever had broken.
She looked around the living room. Everything was exactly as she had left it before collapsing on the couch last night. There was absolutely no trace of anyone else having been there.
This house only ever held her shadow, her echoes.
Gillian let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh and lowered her eyelashes. Of course. Tenderness like that only existed in her imagination...
She forced herself up, drank a glass of water, and carefully assessed her own condition. Her symptoms indicated the pregnancy was stable. Despite the two hard falls and the chill that brought on the fever yesterday, there was no severe impact on the baby.
As a doctor, she knew her own body perfectly. Her foundation was severely weakened and depleted. If she wasn't incredibly careful, she risked losing this baby at any moment.
-
Today was the weekend, and since she was off work, she headed to the Serenity Care Center to visit her mother.
Still slightly anxious about the baby, she decided to get some early-stage prenatal tests done while she was there.
"Miss Jordan, you're here!" Dr. Silas Vance, the attending physician, greeted her with a bright smile. "Since starting the new specialized medication, your mother is doing wonderfully. Her episodes are extremely rare now. While the neurological damage is permanent, with the medication and consistent physical therapy, she’s going to improve significantly."
"Thank you so much for taking such good care of her, Dr. Vance," Gillian smiled gratefully.
Silas waved it off with a laugh. "No need to thank me! You actually picked a great day to visit. The neuro-specialist who developed this drug just returned from abroad and is personally overseeing your mother's treatment plan moving forward. Would you like to meet him after you see your mother?"
"I'd love to," Gillian agreed without hesitation. This person was essentially her family's savior, and it would be a perfect opportunity to discuss her mother's condition in detail.
Gillian went to her mother's room. Mrs. Jordan immediately began fussing over her daughter's well-being.
"York hasn't visited with you in a long time. Did you two have a fight?"
Gillian paused for a fraction of a second before smoothly offering an excuse. "No, he's just swamped with work."
Her mother grabbed her hand. "Gillian, if anything is wrong, you need to tell me. Ever since your father went to prison and your brother went missing, you've been carrying the weight of this entire family on your own..."


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