You Hit My Heart
Chapter 1969: I Will Always Be By Your Side

Chapter 1969: I Will Always Be By Your Side

Joyce was overwhelmed by the sudden onset of labor pains, shaking uncontrollably as waves of intense pain washed over her, far more severe than she had anticipated, her breath growing fainter with each passing moment.

She knew she couldn't wait any longer; she had to get to the hospital immediately. And in this moment, the only person she could rely on was Grayson. Clutching his hand tightly, her palms slick with sweat, she gazed at him earnestly.

"Please," she implored.

She had never bowed her head to ask for help before, but for the sake of her children, she chose to speak up. And with those two simple words, "please help," Clint's hardened resolve finally cracked. Unable to bear seeing her in pain, he relented. "Alright, I will take you to the hospital."

As the "Nightengale" helicopter soared into the sky once more, its course altered towards the warlord hospital, they arrived within 10 minutes. Joyce, now curled up in the back seat, clung to herself in agony. Clint gently wiped the sweat from her brow with a tissue, his gaze complex as he looked down at her. Just moments ago, he had contacted the control tower at the warlord hospital via a third-party radio, securing a spot on the emergency helicopter landing platform atop the hospital.

As the "Nightengale" helicopter touched down, medical staff were already waiting with a stretcher. Clint personally carried Joyce off the helicopter, his hand pausing briefly as he set her down on the stretcher. There was a moment of hesitation, a touch of reluctance, before he swiftly composed himself.

At this moment, Joyce was extremely weak, her eyelids heavy and hard to keep open. With great effort, she whispered, "Thank you." Clint's thin lips moved slightly, his expression even more complex. Thank him for what? He was only using her for his own gain.

Against his own emotions, he turned and boarded the helicopter, leaving her with a cold parting remark. "Joyce, we will meet again."

Not daring to linger, not out of fear of exposure, but of regretting missed opportunities, he took off once more in the "Nightengale" helicopter, the thunderous roar of the blades and the gusts of wind from the propellers tossing Joyce's long hair in the air.

Seeing Grayson depart in the helicopter, she breathed a sigh of relief, knowing she was temporarily safe. The relentless waves of pain continued to crash over her, unbearable in their intensity, leaving her dizzy with agony.

The medical staff at the control tower had initially received a message about an emergency pregnant woman to be airlifted, but they had no idea it was Joyce. Only now did they realize, to their astonishment, that it was the Lady General.

Stunned, they knew they could not afford any mistakes. Urgently, they called out to her, "Lady General, hold on, we will take you to the delivery room shortly." Pale-faced, Joyce weakly nodded. As she was transported downstairs, the jostling journey made her even more dizzy, the pain clouding her senses. This was her first experience of childbirth, a brutal agony beyond her imagination. Fear and worry crept into her heart; for women, childbirth was akin to facing death's door. And she was carrying twins. The relentless pain overwhelmed her completely, sapping her strength. How would she manage to give birth in her current state?

The worry weighed heavily on her mind as her body grew heavier, her eyelids drooping. With no one by her side, her concerns deepened. Exhausted beyond measure, she was forced to close her eyes. Just as they reached the door of the delivery room, she felt a warm hand clasping hers. Trying to open her eyes, she found herself too weak. Then, a familiar and gentle voice reached her ears. "I'm here, don't be afraid. Stay awake, I will always be by your side."

It was Luther! Joyce's spirits lifted slightly, awakened from her pain, she summoned the strength to open her eyes. As her gaze met Luther's impeccably chiseled features, his face exuding endless tenderness, a warm sensation filled her heart, dispelling the emptiness within.

Relieved to see Joyce awake, Luther finally let out a sigh of relief. He knew he had passed out in the bathroom earlier that day, and it was Joyce who had brought him to the hospital. But upon awakening, she was nowhere to be found. Inquiring with the doctor, he learned she had urgent matters to attend to back home.

Feeling a sense of unease, he tried calling her, to no avail. Sensing something amiss, he contacted the security at home, only to replace the surveillance system malfunctioning. It was only when the helicopter landed that the security team realized something was terribly wrong, but it was already too late.

Realizing he had made a grave mistake, he rushed back home, only to hear from the control tower that an airlift had brought a pregnant woman, Joyce, to the hospital. Hastening to the delivery room, he saw Joyce being safely brought in, finally allowing himself a moment of relief.

With no time to spare, he set aside his concerns for now; the most pressing matter was the safe delivery of their children.

"Luther... I found the microbe's code... I have sent it home to Dr. Jocelyn," Joyce squeezed Luther's hand with all her might, "You will be alright, trust me."

Caught in a wave of emotion, Luther choked back his words. His wife was about to give birth, facing danger, yet still thinking of him. What more could a husband ask for?

He nodded gently, "Let's not talk about this now. I will accompany you into the delivery room. Stay strong, you and the children will be safe."

Joyce was on the brink of exhaustion, uttering a soft hum in response.

As the delivery room door opened, Joyce was wheeled inside. The doctors and midwives helped Luther put on sterile clothing before allowing him to enter the delivery room. Joyce was already on the delivery table, the anesthetist preparing swiftly.

"The General is weak, prepare for a cesarean section. Why hasn't the fetal heart monitor been connected?!" Dr. Gordon anxiously barked out orders.

A nurse hurried over to connect the fetal heart monitor to Joyce.

"Where's the oxygen? Hurry, get the General some oxygen!" Dr. Gordon's urgency was palpable.

The medical staff were anxious; after all, the General was no ordinary person. The pressure was immense.

As the preparations were finally complete, Luther held Joyce's hand tightly, offering words of encouragement.

"You've got this, I'm here for you."

Covered in sweat, Joyce nodded, mustering all her remaining strength.

Childbirth was a lengthy process, with each passing second and minute seeming to stretch on endlessly. Inside the delivery room, tension and anticipation hung thick in the air.

No one knew how long they had been inside, nor if night had already fallen outside. It wasn't until the sound of a crying baby filled the delivery room, echoing joyously throughout the space.

With tears in his eyes, Luther held his newborn sons, his heart bursting with pride.

"Congratulations, General, congratulations, Mr. Warner, you now have twin sons."

Overcome with emotion, Luther squeezed Joyce's hand even tighter. "Look, our sons have been born safely."

Joyce, on the brink of collapse, managed a weak nod, stealing a glance at their newborn sons before fainting away.

As the translation lengthened, it became essential to provide a thematic statement regarding the sensitive and emotional tasks of giving birth and supportive characters.