The Last Option
Chapter Seventeen: The Painful and Sad Reality

He opened his eyes and the vision gradually got used to the daylight again. At first he saw everything blurry, but gradually he began to see everything clearly again. Beside him, a nurse was checking the drip of the medications were being given to him intravenously, and when she saw that he woke up, she smiled kindly at him.

"It is good that you already woke up!" she told him, as she now placed the pillow under his head.

"Where am I?" Bernard asked weakly and almost in a whisper.

"You are at the Mercy," he heard the voice of a man to his left side, and he turned to see Dr. Ernest Holloway sitting in a chair near the bedroom window. "You were very delicate for a few days."

The doctor got up and stood next to him. The nurse said she would call the doctor on duty to notify him that he had woken up and left the room. Bernard was confused. He couldn't remember why he was in a hospital at the time. "What happened? Why am I here?"

"Don't you remember anything, Bernard?"

Bernard made an effort to remember, and little by little the memories began to come, although not complete.

"I remember I went early as usual to the Hicks' house to work. I remember preparing the car and leaving, the air bag activated and hit me..."

At that moment the memories came overwhelmingly and Bernard felt his heart skip a beat in his chest.

"Nathan!" he said, trying to get out of bed, but the pain in his left side paralyzed him, with a wince on his face.

"Easy, Bernard," Holloway told him. "You're not yet in condition to get up. Don't get upset."

"Nathan! Norma! How are they? Where are they? Are they fine?"

Bernard could see a glint of unmistakable sadness in Holloway's eyes, and he realized it all. "I'm very sorry, Bernard."

Bernard felt a slight dizziness and closed his eyes, trying to assimilate that his friend and employer, and his wife, were dead. He remembered everything: the kidnapping attempt, when that man shot him, and when the Hicks were shot. He remembered seeing them on the ground with that expression on their faces and their eyes wide. A feeling of sadness invaded him and he could not prevent two furtive tears from rolling down his cheeks. "You must be strong, Bernard."

Bernard opened his eyes and stared at him, the feeling of sadness quickly turning into one of fear, and without knowing why, he immediately thought of Margaret, realizing she wasn't there in the room with him.

"Where is my wife?" he asked timidly; in his heart he hoped Dr. Holloway would tell him that she was fine and she had already delivered the Hicks baby, but that uncomfortable feeling in his chest told him it was not going to be.

Dr. Holloway lowered his head for a few seconds, then raised it again and gave him a quick look of compassion for what he was about to say. He went to the window and began to look out.

"Where is my wife, doctor? Has she already had the baby? Are they fine?"

Bernard asked the questions almost in a whisper and slowly. Holloway crossed his arms.

"When she found out what had happened", the doctor's voice was also low and he spoke slowly, "she became very worried and went into labor. She was very distressed and that caused some complications."

Bernard stared at the ceiling, listening carefully to the doctor, and hoping in his heart that in his words he would tell him everything had turned out well, although somehow he knew Holloway wasn't going to say them.

"We had problems with her blood pressure, which also affected the baby. Even though she was in labor, she didn't dilate and when we were able to stabilize her pressure we had to do an emergency cesarean section. As soon as we opened, she broke down and her heart failed."

The doctor was cautiously silent, waiting for Bernard to understand what he was saying. He barely turned to see him, and Bernard was still staring at the ceiling.

"She was very distressed," continued the doctor, "we did what we could. I am very sorry, Bernard."

Big tears rolled down Bernard's cheeks, his gaze stubbornly fixed on the ceiling, making no effort to see anything else. Only he and God knew what was going through his head at the time.

There was a long, awkward silence. Dr. Holloway kept looking through the window to the other side without noticing anything in particular. He was secretly watching Bernard, how he would react, or what might happen to him when he found out his wife was dead, but he did not react beyond the tears that continued to flow from his eyes.

"How long ago did it happen?" he finally asked, his voice hoarse and harsh.

The doctor turned to see him squarely.

"Two days ago. You were unconscious for three days; the bullet compromised your spleen and part of your intestines. The operation wasn't easy."

Another silence, with the doctor waiting for his reactions.

"The good news is the baby is fine now."

This time Bernard turned to see him, an expression between surprise and joy on his face. He had not wanted to ask about the baby because he thought he was also dead, but knowing he was alive and well raised his mood once again, although later he thought that like him, now he was alone, without parents, without anyone to watch over his life. He felt desolate and at the same time very uneasy.

"And where do they have him?"

"He's still in neonatal care."

Bernard thought for a few seconds.

"What's going to happen to him?"

Hearing the question, the doctor walked over to him again and stood on the side of the bed, staring at him.

"You and I know this child has no one else; Nathan Hicks was very clear in telling us about his family. His sister is out of the country and the one who remains is his cousin Louis, who we already know what he is and what he represents. They don't know about the baby, and we must try to keep it that way."

At that moment the doctor on duty entered the room to check on Bernard, which he began to do immediately.

"I'm glad you woke up, Mr. Sullivan," said the doctor, listening to him. "Tell me if you feel pain or any discomfort."

"I feel some pain in my left side," Bernard wiped his tears quickly, "a slight dizziness and a headache."

"Okay, we'll give you pain medicine. Dizziness tends to disappear little by little as the balance of the body is restored. I imagine the colleague here has told you about your wife and the baby." "Yes, he already told me the baby is fine."

"Your son is a warrior," the doctor said. Bernard turned to see Holloway and he shook his head, which he understood. "He's much better now. And I'm sorry about your wife."

Hearing that, sadness invaded Bernard again and he felt like crying again at the memory of his wife Margaret. He couldn't help it, and the tears came back to his eyes.

"You must be strong for your son, my friend," the doctor continued. "I know the loss of your wife has been a tragedy, but your baby needs you more than ever recovered and strong."

Bernard did not say anything. After a few seconds, and having finished reviewing him, the doctor left the room.

"I made the baby your own, Bernard," Holloway said. "I did it to protect him and because you are the only thing he has left in life."

Bernard wiped the tears away again, but they kept flowing without stopping. He had mixed feelings for the baby, as on the one hand he represented the painful memory of the loss of his wife and his friend Nathan, and on the other because he was not to blame for everything that had happened and he needed protection.

"I want to see my wife."

Dr. Holloway was about to refuse, alluding to his still-failing health, but he saw determination in his eyes and he could not.

"I'll help you, come on."

He helped Bernard up, despite the fact he felt a little dizzy and still weak, and the pain in his belly was beginning to feel more strongly.