“What’s your blood type?”
Claire blinked, momentarily thrown off by the odd question. Of all things to be asked in a hospital, this was not what she had expected. She stared at Alexander, her confusion clear on her face. “What? Why?”
Alexander ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely stressed, which was a rare sight for him. He sighed and quickly explained, “Abigail needs a blood transfusion. The hospital’s blood stock is empty for her blood type, and my mother and Abigail’s parents don’t have the same type either. It leaves… well, me. And, uh, maybe you. If you want.”
Claire furrowed her brow, not entirely sure where this was heading but realizing it had to be serious if Alexander was asking her about blood. “What’s your blood type?” she asked, her voice taking on a more serious tone.
“I’m O-positive. I had my blood tested earlier,” Alexander replied quickly.
“And Abigail’s?”
“B-negative,” he answered, his tone a little more desperate now.
Claire froze for a moment, processing what he’d said. B-negative. That was her blood type. She stayed silent, her mind whirling with the odd coincidence. Finally, after a beat, she spoke up, her voice calm but firm. “My blood type matches Abigail’s.”
Alexander’s eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting that. He blinked at her in shock. “You’re B-negative?”
Claire nodded. “I am.”
A mixture of relief and disbelief crossed Alexander’s face. He stared at her for a moment, as if trying to comprehend the strange twist of fate. Then, his expression shifted, and he asked the question that had clearly been on his mind. “Would you… I mean, would you be willing to donate your blood?”
Claire couldn’t help the wave of irritation that bubbled up inside her as she watched Alexander. It wasn’t just the question. It was the way he looked so concerned—no, deeply concerned—for Abigail. The worry in his eyes, the anxious tone in his voice… she couldn’t recall him ever being this caring when they were married. It was a stark contrast that left her feeling strangely unsettled.
Still, this wasn’t the time to let old feelings surface. Abigail, her friend, was in the operating room, needing help. She couldn’t let her irritation at Alexander’s sudden transformation get in the way.
With a determined nod, Claire said, “I'll do it. I'll donate my blood.”
Before anyone else could say anything, Matthew, who had been silently standing next to Claire throughout the conversation, finally spoke up. His tone was laced with worry. “Claire, you have-"
Claire shot him a sharp glare, cutting him off before he could even finish his thought. “I’ll be fine,” she said curtly, clearly not in the mood for any more objections. She turned back to Alexander who was still looking at her with confusion etched on his face.
“Go find the nurse. If it can be done, I’ll donate now.”
“Of course. Thank you, Claire,” he said earnestly, before turning on his heel and heading down the hall to find the nurse.
Not even a minute later, a nurse appeared with Alexander, moving quickly toward Claire. "Miss, are you really sure you wanted to donate your blood?"
Upon hearing the word ‘donate blood’, Abigail parents jump out of the chair and approach Claire.
“Are you really going to donate your blood?” Abigail’s mother asked, her voice full of worry as she looked at Claire, who had maintained a perfect poker face throughout.
Claire simply nodded, not offering any further explanation. There wasn’t much to say, really. It was a straightforward situation.
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