My Son Hated My Hugs, Then Cried Over My Cold Body

Nathan Delgado's germaphobia was severe. Every time we made love, he had to shower three times afterward.

Even our children inherited it. If I so much as touched them, they'd burst into tears and scramble to wash their hands.

But I had always loved chasing what didn't want to be caught. Every single time, with relentless cheer, I'd force a bear hug on the three of them who couldn't stand a speck of dirt.

Until the day his childhood sweetheart and I were in the same car accident, both of us soaked in blood.

When only one rescue slot remained, Nathan didn't hesitate. His eyes narrowed slightly.

"Felicity's heart is already weak. With the way you carry on all the time"

"Just give it to her. You're a doctor anyway. Whatever happens, you shouldn't die."

The system's electronic voice rang out inside my head.

Die at Nathan Delgado's hands and the mission is complete. You may return to your original world. Does the host accept?

I watched Nathan and our son hold his childhood sweetheart despite their germaphobia, both of them wary, bracing for me to cling and fight the way I always did.

Yes. By all my usual patterns, I'd have thrown a tantrum, rolled on the ground, latched on and wheedled until they gave in and chose me.

But this time I only smiled. My voice was flat. "Take her."

The nurse beside me was sweating, her words frantic with urgency.

"Dr. Pruitt, you have the rare panda-blood type. This impact almost certainly damaged your organs. You're losing too much blood. Your condition is ten times more dangerous than Miss Fox's, easily. You can't afford to wait. You have to be treated first!"

I let my gaze drift, indifferent, to the spot not far off where Nathan held Felicity Fox tight against him. The man who'd been a severe germaphobe his whole life now ignored the blood smeared all over himself, gently patting her back to soothe her.

Our son, John Delgado, stood to one side, his eyes wary and distant as he shielded Felicity, like a small beast bristling with spines, glaring at me, terrified I'd come rushing over the way I always had.

In everyone's mind, I, Belinda Pruitt, had always been willful and clingy, never letting go of Nathan.

They were all waiting for me to cry and cling and force Nathan to choose me.

But I just leaned there and repeated it softly: "Take her first."

At my words, Nathan's deep eyes settled heavily on me, carrying a flicker of disbelief he couldn't quite hide.

He had never seen me this quiet, this compliant.

In the past, the smallest slight would send me into chaos. Now, with my life hanging by a thread, I was calm as a stranger looking in from outside.

He started to say something, but Felicity, buried in his chest, sobbed that she was scared.

In an instant Nathan pulled his gaze back from me, his eyes and heart full of nothing but the woman in his arms.

He bent his head, murmured a few gentle words to comfort her, then turned back to me, his tone carrying a perfunctory reassurance.

"Wait here like a good girl for the ambulance. We'll get Felicity there first, make sure she's all right, and I'll come straight back for you."

I gave a soft answer. "Mm."

Flat. No accusation. Not a trace of my usual clinging.

Nathan's eyes darkened all at once, and an inexplicable, strange unease rose up from somewhere deep inside him.

But Felicity's crying kept reaching him, and he had no time to dwell on it. Holding her, leading our son by the hand, he hurried into the ambulance that had arrived first and left in a rush, never once looking back at me.

A few minutes later, the second ambulance pulled up in a hurry.

The emergency doctor who came with it was a colleague who knew me. He rushed to my side, took in my injuries, and his face filled instantly with disbelieving gravity as he gasped under his breath.

"Dr. Pruitt your vitals are already below the danger line. How could you force yourself to stand there and give way? You're a physician too. You of all people should know how dangerous your injuries are!"

I tugged at the corner of my mouth, nothing but cold detachment in my heart.

Of course I knew. I was dying.

And it suited the system perfectly. It suited the disappointment I'd been storing up for so long.

With effort, I pulled my phone from my pocket.

The screen lit up, and there it was, the wallpaper, a photo of the two of us from years ago.

It had been taken the day my confession worked, when I'd grabbed a passing stranger and asked them to snap the picture.

I was radiant. He was aloof.

The memory surged back and yet, right after that confession,

Felicity Fox called to say someone was following her on the street, and Nathan Delgado dropped everything on the spot, abandoning me to rush to her side.

Right.

From the very beginning, I had never been his first choice.

My fingertips trembled faintly as I calmly swapped out the couple's photo,

replacing it with a picture of myself standing alone by the sea,

clean, cool, with no one else intruding.

Not long after I was loaded into the ambulance and rushed into the emergency room, Nathan hurried in.

He held the paper bag out in front of me, his tone coaxing

I went all the way to the south side to get you those durian cream puffs you love.

Lying there in the hospital bed, I looked at the dessert and suddenly laughed.

I've never eaten durian. The smell is too foul. I can't stand it.

The hand Nathan was holding out froze mid-air.

The one who loves durian cream puffs is Felicity.

I turned my head to look at him, my gaze still and flat. Take them to her. Don't let them go to waste.

His lips parted, as if he wanted to explain something, but not a single word came out.

Just then the nurse beside us spoke up softlySir, the surgery is ready. We need to begin.

I slowly pressed the phone screen dark, refusing to look at him again.

Nathan's gaze happened to fall on my phone screen, and when he saw that unfamiliar solo wallpaper,

his eyes narrowed slightly, and he froze for two seconds

You, you changed your wallpaper?

I felt nothing, and answered flatlyYes.

There was no point holding onto a longing that had never belonged to me. It only made me more of a joke.

I watched him turn and walk away.

After hours of surgery, I was wheeled out of the operating room,

left lying in an ordinary hospital ward, so drained I didn't even have the strength to lift a hand.

The lead surgeon came to my bedside, his face tense and uneasy. He hesitated a long time before he finally spoke

Dr. Pruitt, the surgery has stabilized things for now, but the damage to your internal organs is even more severe than we estimated. We'll need to arrange a second major operation immediately. You should prepare yourself.

A few of the on-duty nurses nearby murmured among themselves, their voices full of disbelief

This kind of sudden post-op organ complication is incredibly rare, and extremely dangerous. There's no telling whether she'll even survive the next surgery

I listened quietly, not a trace of surprise on my face, and only gave a small nod, as if I were hearing someone else's story.

I'd known for a long time, I didn't have much time left.

A nurse brought over a cup of warm water and helped me sit up to drink. We'd just reached the corner of the corridor when

I ran straight into Nathan, John Delgado, and Felicity Fox coming the other way, her color noticeably better now.

Felicity's eyes were smiling as she reached out and gently stroked John's cheek, her voice tender and intimate

John has been such a good boy, staying with me the whole time, never fussing at all.

Nathan stood beside them, his gaze resting softly on Felicity and his son, a faint smile curving his lips,

that tenderness, something I had never once seen in his eyes in all these years.

A nurse passing by couldn't help but murmur with envy

What a happy family. They look so perfect together.

Leaning against the wall, I lowered my head and took a small sip of the warm water, then gave a soft little laugh and quietly agreed

They really are happy.

Only I knew just how cruel that happiness was.

Nathan had a severe germ phobia. From the time my son was little, every time I so much as touched him, Nathan would go into the bathroom and shower three times over.

He scrubbed himself spotless afterward, as if I were some filthy contaminant he had to wash off.

Yet with Felicity Fox, his obsession with cleanliness never once kicked in.

He could hold her without a second thought, press close to soothe her,

let her lean against him with not a flicker of distaste.

I had meant to turn quietly back to my room, to not disturb their cozy little scene.

But Felicity saw me first. The smile vanished instantly, replaced by a wounded, fragile expression as she hurried toward me.

"Belinda, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault, my body's just too weak. I got into the accident and took the only emergency slot too."

Her eyes reddened, and she pressed the point on purpose.

"Nathan and John were just so worried about my health that they insisted on staying with me. Please don't be angry."

That two-faced little act turned my stomach.

I didn't even have it in me to humor her with a reply. I only looked at her, blank.

At her side, John immediately planted himself in front of her, his voice soft and childish as he comforted her.

"Aunt Felicity already has a bad heart. It's not her fault. Mommy shouldn't blame her."

Even the nurse who'd come with me couldn't stomach it, and spoke up for me.

"You're her husband? Fine, any other time, whatever. But right now Dr. Pruitt's under observation in the ICU and you're still circling another woman? Don't you think that's going too far?"

Only then did Nathan snap out of it, a flicker of shock crossing his face as he looked at me.

"You're in the ICU? Why didn't you tell me?"

Tell you?

I laughed. As if he ever had time to listen.

Just then the attending physician from the department walked over, his expression grave.

"The injuries are critical. We need a family member to sign off on a second surgery."

But I only spoke quietly, my tone distant and calm.

"I have no family. I'm single. I'll sign it myself."

I took the form.

Nathan and I had never legally married, after all.

The day we'd agreed to get our marriage license, Felicity happened to fall into the water. He rushed off to save her without a backward glance, and afterward brushed it aside with a careless, "The formality doesn't matter."

I'd believed it, foolish, for all these years. Looking back now, the truth was simple: he had never once intended to give me a title.

Nathan's face darkened slightly, and on reflex he reached to take the chart from my hand.

But the moment his fingertips brushed mine, his mysophobia flared. His fingers curled back on instinct, and he hesitated, then withdrew his hand.

I caught the small motion, every bit of it, and gave a soft laugh, my eyes gone cold.

"If it disgusts you, don't force yourself."

The old me would only have clung to him, wheedling,

clawing on even when he found me repulsive.

Nathan froze where he stood, watching the distance in my eyes, an inexplicable agitation rising in his chest.

He was about to say something

when Felicity suddenly clutched her stomach, her face going pale, her brow knotting with pain.

She sagged weakly against him. "Nathan, my stomach hurts so much all of a sudden"

Every ounce of his attention snapped to her, every reservation flung aside as he hurried to steady her,

his face all tenderness. "Don't be scared. I'll take you to get checked."

He turned and glanced at me in a rush, leaving behind one perfunctory promise.

"Get some rest. I'll come back to see you later."

And with that he wrapped an arm around Felicity and turned to leave, holding his son's hand, without a trace of reluctance.

I stood where I was, watching their backs recede, and felt nothing at all.

Before long, the nurse came in to change my dressing, and in the small talk she couldn't help marveling.

"Room A201 is just so romantic. It's filled with 999 red roses."

Something stirred in me. A201, that was Felicity's room.

He once told me that women loving flowers was nothing but a waste.

In my mind, the system's cold electronic voice chimed right on schedule

Host mission countdown12 hours.

Hearing the prompt, I simply leaned quietly against the headboard,

There are no wasted flowers, really. Only wasted people.

A faint daze settled over me, and oddly enough, it gave way to the calm of something finally laid to rest.

Memories surged up on their own, all those fragments of the past, the days I'd debased myself, forcing my way close to him.

For the mission, even though his cleanliness obsession ran bone-deep, I'd offered my warm face to his cold shoulder.

Our son inherited the same fixation, recoiling because I wasn't clean enough,

yet I never got angry. Every day I still smiled and held him, coaxing him to eat, to sleep.

I bent to his obsession, made room for his favoritism, endured the fact that his heart was forever filled with Felicity Fox,

believing that as long as I held on, one day I'd thaw his heart.

Now I see it for what it was. Nothing but lying to myself.

Just then a nurse came in carrying the pre-op forms, and seeing how pale I was, she couldn't help asking softly

Dr. Pruitt, the second major surgery is coming up soon. The risk is very high, and you mightyou might not come off the operating table. Are you sure you don't want a family member or friend here with you? Even just someone waiting outside would be better.

I shook my head, a faint smile curving my lips

No need. One person is enough.

At that moment, a voice message suddenly popped up on my phone, the sender still tagged as Nathan Delgado.

I opened it, but what came through was Felicity Fox's delicate voice, laced with a deliberate little lilt of excitement

Sis, today's a big happy day. Remember to look out your window.

I looked up without thinking, toward the window of my hospital room.

The little garden below had been decorated to the point of pure romance,

a sky full of balloons crowding a red carpet, flowers blanketing the path, the lighting soft and dazzling.

Nathan Delgado stood in a custom-tailored suit, tall and straight, down on one knee,

a brilliant diamond ring cradled in his hands, gazing at Felicity Fox with eyes tender enough to drown in.

Our son, John Delgado, stood off to the side holding flowers,

his face bright with joy, clapping hard, as if he truly blessed them.

A grand proposal, sweeping and extravagant, drawing crowds from all over the hospital to watch and snap photos, a spectacle.

I watched that glaring scene beyond the glass, and not a single ripple stirred in my chest. It only struck me as absurd, laughable.

All these years, I'd suffered beside him, borne his child, day after day bending to his obsession and his favoritism,

and never once a proper confession, let alone a proposal. He wouldn't even give me a marriage license,

brushing it all off with a single line about how the formalities didn't matter.

Yet now he was willing to give Felicity Fox a proposal the whole world could watch,

to give her all his tenderness and every bit of the ceremony.

I slowly drew my gaze back, expressionless, and said nothing in reply. I only murmured to the nurse who had come in

I'm ready. Take me to the operating room.

Before long my phone buzzed again, another long voice message from Nathan, explaining.

His voice carried a trace of panic and a guilt he couldn't quite hide

Belinda, don't misunderstand. That proposal just now was an act. Felicity's parents don't have much time left,

and their one dying wish is to see her engagement settled. I was just helping out, playing along, that's all. Don't read too much into it.

Then another messageThat voice message was just Felicity sending it carelessly. Don't take it to heart.

Message after message,

until the last one, when he seemed to lose all patience

Why aren't youangry anymore?

I stared at the words on the screen, my eyes distant, my fingertip hovering above the glass,

In the end, I didn't type a single word. I sent no reply.

There was nothing left to explain. And I no longer wanted to listen.

Just then, the system's chime sounded once more in my mind:Task nearing completion. Host, prepare to pass on.

Hearing it, something inside me finally loosened, as if a weight had lifted.

I didn't answer any of Nathan's messages. I simply reached up and pressed the power button, sealing myself off from every last intrusion of the outside world.

The nurses wheeled my bed, easing me slowly toward the operating room.

The lead surgeon was my mentor, and the whole way there he kept trying to comfort me:

"Belinda, don't be afraid. Our entire team is going to give it everything we have. We will bring you back from that table."

I managed a weak smile and gave a small shake of my head.

"Don't put so much pressure on yourselves. Just let it run its course."

Life and death had been settled long ago. There was no use fighting it.

Lying on the table, the lights glaring overhead, I felt the anesthetic slide slowly into my veins, my awareness blurring at the edges.

Before my eyes, the past flickered past like a spinning lantern.

I remembered the first time I met Nathan. I had planned it for so long, confessed first, and even when he was cold and distant, I refused to give up.

I remembered ignoring his mysophobia, throwing my arms around him again and again,

watching that look of helpless disgust on his face, and quietly, secretly, treasuring it.

I remembered after our son was born, how the boy was taught to scorn me, to refuse my touch,

and how I bore that loneliness alone, forcing myself to act like none of it mattered.

I remembered the countless deep nights I spent guarding that empty mansion,

waiting for him to come home, only to get word that he was with Felicity instead.

I remembered the crash site, how without a moment's hesitation he gave the only chance of survival to someone else,

watching me sink into hopelessness without a single flicker of pity.

Scene after scene, one after another, all that accumulated disappointment finally came to its end in this moment.

In the last second before my mind sank under for good, every sensation slipped away from me, and my heartbeat eased into stillness.

Outside the operating room, the surgeon's eyes were rimmed red. Facing the empty corridor, he shook his head slowly and choked out under his breath:

"I'm sorry. We did everything we could"

The lights in the operating room went dark, announcing my death.

Meanwhile, downstairs, the proposal was still going on.

Nathan was about to slide the diamond ring onto Felicity's finger when a panic surged through his chest out of nowhere,

as if something of immense importance had vanished completely, leaving a dull, aching pressure behind.

His brow knotted tight. He hadn't the slightest will to stay, and ignoring Felicity's startled attempt to stop him,"What are you doing?!"

he shoved through the crowd and broke into a run toward the hospital wing.

The dread inside him grew stronger and stronger, his steps turning frantic.

He tore all the way to my room and threw the door open.

"Belinda, you've been ignoring my messages this whole time. What exactly are you trying to"

The words cut off, lodging in his throat, refusing to come.

He stared at the empty bed, at the grave, grieving faces of the staff beside it,

and froze on the spot, every drop of blood in him seeming to ice over in that instant, his pupils shrinking, his face full of disbelief.

In that moment, he was seized by a terror beyond anything he could name, a panic he had never known sweeping through his entire body.