Lost Me, Gained Regret (Jane and Bryant Ferguson) novel Chapter 149

On the way to the hospital, I leaned heavily against the passenger seat, my mind foggy with fever.

I couldn't shake off the image of Bryant's grief-stricken face before I left, as if someone had squeezed lemon juice right into my heart, sour and unbearable. Yet, the outburst seemed to have cleared the bad feelings in my chest by a considerable margin.

Yes, it was our baby we lost. Why should I bear this pain alone? Bryant should suffer, too. We should share our misery.

With one hand on the steering wheel, Mark reached to feel my forehead, his expression laced with concern, “You’re running quite the fever.”

“It’s no big deal, just a bit under the weather. A rest of one day or two will fix me up.” I shrugged it off nonchalantly.

After all, a cold or fever seemed trivial without my baby to worry about anymore. Just pop some pills and get some rest, and I will be healthy again.

BlessedCare Medical Facility was the nearest, and worried about wasting time, Mark didn’t opt for another hospital. And frankly, I didn’t care, either.

In such a large hospital, unless by design, it was unlikely to run into anyone you knew.

However, when we parked and opened the car door, the hospital director rushed to greet us with a doctor and two nurses.

“Mrs. Ferguson,” the hospital director signaled for a nurse to support me, cleared his throat, and warmly said, “Mr. Ferguson had called earlier, concerned. He mentioned your special health condition and said that you had a fever, insisting that we take no chances with your care.”

I initially wanted to refuse but then thought better of it. “Okay.”

It would indeed save some trouble. Besides, the divorce papers weren't in my hands yet. Utilizing the Ferguson family resources was only fair.

To my surprise, the director led us directly to the patient rooms.

I frowned. “Aren’t these all occupied?”

Even the room that Cheryl was staying in took me considerable effort to secure.

The director smiled. “You are Mrs. Ferguson. If you need a room, others should make way for you.”

“Jane!” Margaret’s face was a picture of icy command. “I’m warning you. Don’t push your luck. Tell Bry right now you don’t need the room.”

“Why wouldn’t I need it?” I deliberately pissed her off. “I want it, and I want it now.”

Then, turning to the hospital director, I said, “Would you mind having someone disinfect the room again? I don’t fancy staying in a room used by some dirty woman!”

“Rest assured. It’s already been taken care of! Mr. Ferguson made sure to mention that you like cleanliness.”

When the hospital director finished speaking, a few cleaners came out with their tools. One of them looked to the director. “Sir, we’ve finished disinfecting. We didn’t miss a single spot.”

Margaret’s face turned red with anger, disbelief etched all over her face as she looked at the hospital director, “Are you sure it’s Bryant’s order?”

“Absolutely.” The hospital director led me inside, closing the door on Margaret, who was left fuming helplessly outside.

“Mrs. Ferguson, please take a seat. Let Professor Franklin have a look at you.”