Babies' Secret: My Ex Wants Me Back!
Chapter 20: Calling for him

Chapter 20: Calling for him

Chapter 20

The hallway lights flickered above her, casting a dull yellow glow on the hospital floor tiles. Katherine rested against the wall, her body numb and her mind hazy. Her uniform was damp with sweat, her clamy palms were trembling as she buried her face in them.

She couldn’t think straight—her brain was clouded. Her heart was beating too loud, too fast, in un-rhythmic patterns.

She looked through the small square see-through window in the hospital door again, staring at her baby.

Jasmine still lay there—unmoving.

Matthew had taken a seat by her bedside, his head lowered, his fingers brushing back Jasmine’s hair so gently. Her heart pulled at the action. It was the softest thing she had seen in all this emergency.

She released a shaky breath as she fought to hold back the tears that wanted to escape. She felt so useless right now because she had failed.

Again.

Katherine had willed herself, since she picked herself up years ago, and told herself she could do it alone. She didn’t need anyone’s help. She wouldn’t rely on anyone for anything—that she’d be enough for herself and her kids. But now, she felt so helpless. This was beyond her capability.

She could feel her world breaking apart because her daughter needed something she couldn’t give. It was beyond her ability.

Their blood didn’t match.

Katherine closed her eyes in pain, her heart was bleeding, yet she was trying to keep the sob of frustration—not being able to do everything—the sob of being useless that was clearing its way through her throat, at bay.

She hated this feeling—this helplessness clawing at her chest. She didn’t want to feel weak. Not again. She didn’t want to beg anymore—but why did this have to happen?

Why now?

Why did it have to be now?

Why?! She wanted to scream but used the side of her palm to cover her mouth, blocking any sound from coming out. She willed herself to calm down. Her emotions were all over the place. She was feeling—experiencing—everything at once.

The pain.

The nurse’s words seemed to echo louder in her head as a reminder.

"Your daughter’s blood type is rare. We need her father."

Her daughter.

Her bright Jasmine.

Katherine couldn’t breathe, it was hard. She knew what to do—what she had to do—but her body wasn’t complying. The pain, the promises, the vows, and all the things she had willed herself to stand for—stood like a mountain between her and that one person who could help right now.

Aaron.

She gritted her teeth, hating how he made her feel so small and vulnerable, feel so weak and incompetent. His piercing gaze always seemed to know everything. She hated it.

And yet, she hated herself for feeling that even after everything. Hated herself for being weak. Hated herself for how her heart beat, how she fidgeted, how she fumbled and tensed when he was around.

And now, she had to ask him for help. To help her. To help her baby. Their baby.

Katherine sniffled—feeling watery mucus running from her nose—as she harshly wiped her face with the back of her hand. She would put her pain to one side for her child. This is it, she breathed out loudly, reaching her hand into her bag and pulling out her cracked phone with a trembling hand.

She stared at the screen for a long time, yet just a few seconds, and scrolled through the contact list, then finally found the hotel’s front desk line.

Her thumb hovered to press the dialer as she inhaled deeply, swallowed the nerve in her throat, and tapped the number.

One ring. Katherine felt her heart in her ears, beating loudly as she waited anxiously for the call to connect.

Second ring—

"Hello, good evening. This is the front desk of Great Hotel. How may I assist you?"

Katherine’s voice was hoarse, barely audible. "Hi. I need to speak with Aaron Knight. Can you patch the call to his suite? Tell him Katherine Prescott is calling. It’s urgent."

Meanwhile, Aaron sat at the side of his bed, his laptop on his lap as he checked his email for the new documents his PA sent to him for approval. His hand lingered on the keyboard as he scrolled through his email. The line phone buzzed against the table. He quickly glanced at it and returned to his work, not bothering to check who it was.

He wasn’t in the mood for any discussion, disturbance, or conversation right now. Not even his mother’s emotional blackmail or his friend’s constant calls. He knew they would have tried his phone and it’d be unreachable. He didn’t have the time and energy.

As he turned to finalize the document he was checking, the phone rang again and, begrudgingly, he placed his laptop on the bed and walked over to answer.

"Yes?" he prompted in a tired, unbothered voice.

"Mr. Knight?" a polite voice came in, and he raised his brow—it sounded like the front desk. Why are they calling me? As he opened his mouth to decline whatever the front desk wanted to say, the person cut him off.

"You have a call from a Miss Katherine Prescott. She said it’s urgent. Shall I patch it through?"

His heart skipped. He couldn’t believe it. Katherine wanted to talk to him.

"Katherine?" he asked to be sure, yet he couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice.

"Yes, sir," the lady confirmed.

And he breathed through his mouth, feeling his body tingle with happiness. "Put her through. Now."

He didn’t even have time to prepare his heart to calm down before her voice filled his ear.

"Aaron?"

His throat went dry. He didn’t know what to say—just her name came out in a whisper. "Katherine."

His heart thumped in anticipation as every dragged silence on the phone made him hold his breath, thinking just his breathing might make her hang up.

"Can we meet?" she finally asked, her voice was quiet yet shaky. Not like her usual professional or indifferent tone. It sounded like she was trying to hold her tears. "Please," she added.

Aaron’s body stood up in concern. He didn’t even hesitate before asking, "Where?"

"The Great Hospital. East wing."

"I’m on my way," Aaron said, grabbing his jacket at the nightstand before the line went dead.

She didn’t even say anything else.

And she didn’t need to. Her voice had already said everything.

As he stepped out of his room hurriedly, he met Amanda, who was drinking at the private bar. She stood when she noticed him and swayed languidly toward him.

"Where are you going, darling?" she slurred, her body reeking of alcohol.

Aaron wrinkled his nose in irritation. "Do I need to report my movements to you?" he bit out, walking through the suite door.

"Wait, darling—"

"Are you going to meet that bitch?!"

"I wouldn’t—"

And Amanda’s croaked voice seeped into the background when he slammed the door shut angrily.

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