He Never Loved Me Until the Day I Finally Left Him novel Chapter 275

Julian had called ahead during the drive.

The medical staff was already waiting.

When the doctor saw Helena's condition—her lower half completely soaked in blood—his face fell. He immediately ordered the nurses to rush her into the trauma bay.

"If it comes down to it, prioritize the mother or the child?" the doctor asked Julian with clinical urgency.

"The mother," Julian ordered without a second of hesitation.

The doctor nodded firmly.

Then he rushed through the double doors.

In situations like this, choosing the baby often destroyed the mother psychologically, assuming she even survived.

Besides, at this stage in the pregnancy, the baby had a viable chance outside the womb.

As for why a pregnant woman was in such a state, the doctor didn't pry.

The heavy doors to the operating room clicked shut.

Julian stood outside in the sterile hallway, completely still, like a statue carved out of ice.

About an hour later, the doors finally opened.

The doctor stepped out, his expression grave.

Julian immediately closed the distance between them.

"How is she?" Julian forced himself to remain composed, but a slight tremor betrayed his voice.

"It was very close, but both mother and child are stable for now. The baby is incredibly resilient. Despite the massive trauma, it managed to hold on," the doctor explained quickly.

Throughout his explanation, Julian's stony expression didn't soften in the slightest.

"The patient's sheer willpower to protect the baby made a huge difference. It's a miracle they both made it. But if something like this happens again, I cannot guarantee a positive outcome."

The doctor frowned, making sure the gravity of the situation was crystal clear.

Julian stood there, one hand shoved into his pocket, and gave a curt nod.

"How is she doing right now?" Julian asked.

"Not well. She needs absolute rest. Her nerves are completely shot, and the pregnancy has been high-risk from the start," the doctor replied honestly.

As they spoke, nurses wheeled Helena out of the surgical wing.

She was still unconscious.

An IV drip was attached to her pale wrist.

She looked incredibly fragile, her face entirely drained of color.

Julian remained silent, quietly following the stretcher as they moved her to a private suite.

"She should wake up in about half an hour," the doctor noted.

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