Chapter 53
The night deepened, but William Johnson never returned.
Emily Smith leaned against the headboard, her fingertips lightly tracing the phone screen. She didn’t feel disappointed—instead, there was an inexplicable sense of relief.
She had no regrets about her relationship with William. In this transaction, she had gained too much: her sister’s surgery fees, the VIP hospital room, and medical resources she had never dared to dream of before.
She spent the entire Saturday at the hospital, talking to her sister. On Sunday morning, she woke before dawn. The surgery was scheduled for 9:30, but she arrived at the hospital by 7:00.
Professor Johnson’s words still echoed in her ears: "The surgery is high-risk. You need to be mentally prepared."
She had no choice. Without the surgery, her sister could be gone at any moment. With it, there was at least a sliver of hope.
At exactly 9:00, the nurse wheeled in the surgical cart. The razor buzzed as strands of her sister’s dark hair fell away. Emily clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms.
"Xiao Yi, I’ll be waiting for you," she whispered by her sister’s ear. "Come back to me safely."
The sound of the gurney’s wheels echoed down the hallway. When the red light above the operating room lit up, Emily felt her heart stop along with it.
She stared unblinking at that red light, her eyes burning but refusing to close. As long as she kept watching, maybe her sister would come out unharmed.
Then, footsteps broke the silence of the empty corridor.
Emily turned and saw William striding toward her. He wore a dark gray suit, his tie slightly loosened, as if he’d rushed here from some important event.
"How long has it been?" He stopped in front of her and ruffled her hair.
Only then did Emily check the time. "Three and a half hours." Her voice was hoarse.
"Have you eaten?"
She shook her head. Her stomach felt like it was stuffed with a rock—she couldn’t even sense hunger.
William frowned and reached to pull her up. "Let’s get something to eat first."
"I’m really not hungry." She stubbornly stayed seated.
He didn’t push further, sitting down beside her instead. Leaning back against the wall, he closed his eyes to rest. Sunlight slanted through the window at the end of the hallway, casting fragmented light across his sharp profile.
Emily stole glances at him—his lashes casting faint shadows, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly with each breath. She suddenly remembered nights when he’d tilted his head back just like that, sweat trailing down his neck—
"Done staring?" His voice startled her so badly she nearly jumped.
He opened his eyes and caught her hand effortlessly. His thumb brushed lightly over her palm, sending a shiver through her.
"Grr—"
The sound of her stomach growling was embarrassingly loud in the quiet hallway. Emily’s face burned.
William chuckled lowly and pulled out his phone to make a call. Twenty minutes later, Sam Wilson arrived with an exquisite food box.
Inside were six steaming dishes. Only then did Emily realize how ravenous she was. She picked up a piece of sweet and sour pork and took a bite.
William propped his chin on his hand, watching her eat. She always focused intently on food, her eyes slightly narrowed like a contented cat. Even the simplest home-cooked meal could make her look blissful.
The operating room light remained on. As Emily ate, her movements gradually slowed. She stared at the food, her appetite vanishing again.
"She’ll be fine," William said suddenly.
She looked up, meeting his deep gaze. The certainty in his eyes gave her an inexplicable sense of peace.