Eddie's POV
"Stephanie Thomas's husband must be a very petty person. It's exhausting to be around someone like him. No wonder she has found someone else," one of the guests commented.
The one beside her even remarked, "Let's put that aside for now. They still have a kid, right? If they really get divorced, what happens to the child? If Stephanie Thomas and Landon Murphy continue their stable relationship, they'll definitely get married in the future. Being a stepdad in a wealthy family is no easy task."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut.
My chest felt like it was being dipped in hot oil, frying over and over again. The pain was so intense I could barely breathe.
I couldn't tell if it was rage or heartbreak swelling inside me, but I felt both pulsing through my veins.
Drilling deep into my bones, the cold air in the hospital room cut right through me. Unable to endure the cold any longer, I turned away from the TV and toward the family in the bed next to mine.
"Excuse me. Could you please raise the temperature a bit? My child has diarrhea and can't get any colder."
Time seemed to pass without me even noticing.
The cold, though, kept sinking into me, frosting my thoughts, freezing everything inside. It wasn't until I could take it no longer that I finally looked up.
The nurse was standing there, her eyes wide with surprise.
"Mr. Hayes, normally, family members aren't allowed to stay in the morgue for more than fifteen minutes. You've been here all afternoon. You need to leave now. The director is asking you to come and sign the death certificate. And the child's mother still hasn't shown up. Now that the child has passed, she should at least make an appearance. You should try contacting her."
Her words were like a thunderclap.
I finally snapped back to reality. Slowly, my legs started moving, weak and shaky as I forced myself to stand. I walked out of the room, the weight of it all almost too much to bear.
The process for getting the death certificate was shockingly fast.
Within two hours, I found myself standing by a cold draft, my hand trembling as I dialed the funeral home.
Then I tried calling Stephanie thirty times, but she never answered.
Leaning against the cold tiles of the hallway, I couldn't help but laugh bitterly at myself. I was just so tired, too tired even to feel anything anymore.
The funeral home staff arrived just before the director's shift ended, and they came to take my daughter away.
On the way to the funeral home, I lost track of how many times I cried, with the pain in my chest making it hard to breathe.
Once we got to the funeral home, they immediately took Thea's body and placed it in cold storage. They told me I could go home and bring her favorite clothes so she could change into something clean and dignified.
Yes, that's right.
Just like Stephanie, my daughter had a thing about cleanliness.
"Once the deceased's body arrives at the funeral home, cremation usually takes place within 72 hours. However, if the family requests, we can extend the time for cremation—three days, five days, or seven days. Would you like to do that?"
I reached out and touched my daughter's cold, lifeless face.
My hand shook as I said, "Three days, please."
...
I stumbled home, dazed, in the middle of the night.
When Stephanie saw me, the smile in her eyes quickly faded.
"Why are you back so late? Is Thea feeling better? Landon heard that she had diarrhea and was really worried. He asked me to bring back two boxes of medicine."
I turned away, avoiding the medicine she handed me.
As I looked at the box, I saw the expiration date. It made my stomach turn, and I couldn't help but force out a bitter smile.
Tears started flowing without my permission.
"Expired meds? Who's he trying to kill?"
Stephanie froze, her face stiffening as she quickly flipped the box over to hide the date.
A flash of impatience crossed her face, but she masked it quickly.
"Landon just didn't pay attention. Do you have to be so aggressive with your words? You know pregnant women shouldn't take medicine. Also, this is his first time trying to be a dad. How could he think of everything?"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
My heart felt heavy as I stared at her, unable to find the right words.
But Stephanie continued, persistently asking, "And why didn't you come to Landon's art exhibition today? I told you a few days ago that it was really important. Why did you have to make an exception on this day?"
Stephanie instinctively defended Landon, not realizing how difficult it was for me to hear. She still hadn't noticed the redness of my eyes or the raw pain burning behind them.
So, I asked, "Do you even remember why you supported Landon in the first place?"
Stephanie froze, her mouth hanging open as she processed what I said.
The words she was about to throw at me were swallowed back, but I didn't care anymore.
