He Never Loved Me Until the Day I Finally Left Him novel Chapter 387

The baby was so, so incredibly tiny.

She was even smaller than a typical 31-week preemie.

Her skin was so red and translucent that it looked paper-thin.

Every tiny vein was clearly visible.

If one looked closely enough, it felt as though they could almost see her fragile organs working.

Her tiny body was covered in medical equipment.

Her breathing was painfully shallow.

But even so, this little girl was fighting desperately to live.

It was the primal human instinct for survival.

Even infants possessed it.

The sight felt like a sledgehammer to Helena's heart.

It was an absolute, crushing helplessness.

And an overwhelming sense of failure.

She reached out toward the incubator.

But she didn't dare touch the plastic.

She was terrified of hurting her.

She was terrified of causing an infection.

She was terrified that in the next second, her baby would slip away forever.

These horrifying thoughts crushed her like a mountain, making it impossible to breathe.

She was finally looking at her daughter.

But instead of finding comfort, her emotional state plummeted.

The agonizing pressure was pushed to its absolute limit.

In the next second, she felt she would shatter into a million pieces.

She wanted to scream and cry, but her throat was completely raw.

Inside the NICU, the only sounds were the rhythmic beeps of the life support machines.

And her own heavy, ragged breathing.

When Sebastian finally rushed in, he found her standing there, completely still.

He stopped in his tracks.

The doctors and nurses didn't dare approach.

Everyone held their breath.

Time seemed to stand still for a fraction of a second.

The silence was deafening.

Suddenly, the tiny baby began to cry.

Whether from pain or pure instinct, she was wailing.

But even though she was crying with all her might, the sound was heartbreakingly faint.

Muffled by the heavy plastic of the incubator.

She had cried until her body was entirely drained.

Her voice was strained, fighting past the violent hammering of her heart as the tension suffocated her.

The doctors and nurses exchanged a frantic look, readying themselves for an emergency resuscitation.

Because Helena's physical condition was visibly, dangerously deteriorating.

Just as she was on the verge of total collapse, his cold voice cut through the air.

"Helena, even if you take her, she won't survive," he stated bluntly.

"I know. I know she won't survive. But at least she'd be with me. If she could speak, I know she would rather be with her mother than trapped in this icy machine."

Her words dripped with an unbearable sorrow.

It was as if she had completely accepted the reality that her baby was going to die.

Her only wish now was for him to let her take the child away.

Sebastian listened, his hands balling into tight fists as he stood before her.

He neither agreed nor refused.

"Sebastian, I only have this child left," she whispered into the quiet room.

Her eyes were filled with nothing but pleading.

A thoroughly broken, desperate plea.

No human being could remain indifferent in the face of such absolute devastation.

Especially since everyone in the room knew this baby wasn't going to make it anyway.