Devoted Love, Mr. Hayes’ Darling Wife

High-end private hospital, belonging to the Amengual Group consortium.

Nico had just come out of the operating room with Micaela, who was wet from the rain.

The nurse ran anxiously to Nico and spoke urgently: “President Nico, Miss Matamoros is dying and must be transfused immediately! The blood bank has run out of RH blood.”

Micaela has the same blood type as Kemena, and only you can convince Micaela to transfuse Kemena’s blood!”

Micaela’s face was expressionless as she looked at the kneeling Beltran, the middle-aged man in front of her, Kemena’s father, but as if he had never been Micaela’s real father.

Beltran knelt again to plead with Micaela, grabbed hold of Micaela’s pant legs and shouted, “Micaela, Kemena is your sister just the same, give her a blood transfusion and save your sister! Your mother has passed away and I am very old, your sister is the only family you have left in this world, you two sisters have to help each other…”

Before Beltran could finish his sentence, Micaela interrupted him with a scolding, “You shut up!”.

Beltran was startled, and Micaela’s face was colder than ice.

Micaela looked at Beltran, who was on his knees, and sneered, “Even if all my relatives died in this world, I would not recognize Kemena as my sister, please Mr. Beltran, make it clear, my mother, I am an only child, I am an only child, I have no sisters. And, you, you are not worthy of mentioning my mother”.

Micaela’s words carry a knife that cuts that false affection into pieces.

Inside the operating room, another nurse ran out and shouted, “The patient is dying of blood loss!

Beltran slowly got up from the floor and said in a pale voice: “Micaela, daddy has cirrhosis of the liver, there is no way to give blood to your sister, you are young, the doctor said so, there is still 300cc of blood missing, you see…”

Camila also pleaded, “Micaela, Aunt Camila knows you hate me, but your mother’s death has nothing to do with Aunt Camila, it’s your mother’s fate, you …”

Oh, her mother had a thin life, a good life.

Snap!

Micaela slapped Camila’s face angrily, using all her strength, and Camila took half a step back.

Micaela was so full of hostility that she cursed out of the corner of her scarlet eyes, “God will get you! You’ll get hit by a car in the street! You’ll be struck by lightning in the rain.”

She was so well-mannered, so indifferent, and yet she went completely mad.

Micaela did not look at Beltran. She looked up, her back erect, her watery eyes staring at Nico with indifference.

Micaela pointed to the operating room, looked directly at Nico and asked, word for word, “Nico, you want my blood to save Kemena before you’re willing to do it, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

If she hadn’t been saved, she would never have been able to look him in the eye and spend the rest of her life with him as she did now.

Much less would she be able to erase the debt she owed him for betraying him.

The two owed each other are compensatory deficits.

Micaela’s guilt and demons, always, will ruin her and him, the relationship, is unequal.

But now, he and Micaela are fair game for owing and hating each other.

The guilt he felt towards him would become a ballast for forgiveness and release of the other, and it would be seen in long rivers of years, the more one was ashamed of himself, the more emboldened he would be to use the other’s guilt to continue to hurt, to become the knife that would kill the other, and between them, there would always be Dario through.

Abominable, just hold her tight and sooner or later she would willingly reconcile with him, albeit late, but never late.

Micaela pressed her pale lips together and smiled, “Give me the divorce papers and I’ll donate blood to save Kemena. ”

Nico’s dark eyes were stern and cold as he stared at Micaela’s stunningly beautiful face, even angrily, not changing his gaze but sternly calling out to his assistant, “Campoverde!”

Campoverde hesitates, “Mr. Nico, which …?”

Is divorce such an important thing to have to reconsider?

Moreover, between Mr. Nico and his wife, there was clearly a misunderstanding.

Nico kept looking at Micaela, but sneered at Campoverde: “The divorce papers!”.

Campoverde slowly pulled two divorce papers out of the briefcase he was carrying and shakily handed them to him. “Mr. Nico, do you want to…?”

He thought twice.

But before the words could be uttered, Nico had already pulled the two divorce papers and the black pen, and signed the man’s signature in bold, cursive handwriting.

Power through the paper.

The nib of the pen almost cut through the heavy A4 paper.

The bruises on the back of the man’s thin hands stand out.

Nico finished signing and handed her the divorce papers in front of her eyes, his gaze hard and cold, “Are you satisfied?”

Micaela looked up at him and smiled at the corners of her lips, gritting her chattering teeth as she tried to squeeze out a smile.

She said, “Satisfied.”

Micaela cupped the two divorce papers and turned to follow the nurse in stride to have her blood type tested.

But the moment I turned around, the tears I had been holding back abruptly escaped.

–Nico, I was wrong to pay after all.

And the man stood in place, his hands dangling at the sides of his pants, creased into fists, the green and white visible.

Ten minutes later, the blood type test results came back and they were exactly the same.

The nurse asked, “Exact match, have you decided to draw blood yet?”

Nico’s thin lips spat out one word coolly, “Smoke.”

Micaela watched the transparent tube in which her blood, little by little, was drawn and pooled in Kemena’s body.

She hated it so, so much.

Lying on the hospital bed, she closed her eyes and her hatred turned into tears that slid from the corners of her eyes to the temples of her hair.

After an unknown amount of time, a sharp stabbing pain erupted from her lower abdomen.

The nurse drawing blood became alarmed: “It’s no good! Miss Micaela … Miss Micaela …”Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

On the snow-white sheets, Micaela’s lower abdomen was bleeding so much that it stained the white sheets red and shocking.

Micaela willed her dead eyes to slowly look at her body, under which there was a large pool of blood.

She seemed to realize something and the corners of her lips slowly curved in mockery and despair.

Oh, fate really likes to play with her.

She had, surprisingly, a son.

At the most undeserved moment, at the most wrong moment, she had a son, Nico’s son.

Nico rushed over, panting breathing heavily, her gaze straightened as she saw the large pool of bright red blood below her and froze, “Micaela…”

Micaela turned her head, looked up at him and gave him a shallow curl of her lips, soft and rough, “Nico, now, are you satisfied?”

“Micaela… doctor… doctor!” At this point, Nico was in a complete panic.

Micaela was awake when she was taken into the operating room, her eyes wide open as she stared at the blinding white light above her head and felt overwhelming pain.

For in Nico’s eyes she saw remorse, regret and all kinds of mixed emotions.

But what is that revenge if not interest?

Lying on the operating table, Micaela told herself that aborting Nico was the stupidest thing she had ever done in her life.

The pain was now a constant reminder that she deserved it.

Yes, she deserved it.

She said to herself, Micaela, remember this pain, and you will pay twice!

…

Two hours later.

The doctor in Micaela’s operating room came out, took off his mask and said to Nico: “President Nico, I am sorry that the baby that was in Miss Micaela’s womb … was not saved . . it was aborted.”

Nico sat disheveled, his head bowed, his voice hoarse as he asked, “How old is she?”

The doctor froze for a moment, not understanding, “Huh?”.

“I was asking how old the baby is.”

“IV. Four weeks…”

Nico reached up, wiped his face hard and took a deep breath, but it was as if a thousand-pound stone was weighing on his chest and he couldn’t breathe.

All around, all around.

That was when he first imprisoned her, when she had sex with Dario and he lost his mind and hated her so much that he locked her in the attic and did many things to harm her, physically and psychologically.

Treating her as an outlet tool like that, once or twice, seeing her turn red, he didn’t care and just assumed it was too hard.

But come to think of it, maybe it was the baby in Micaela’s belly that was crying out for help.

He’s doomed, really, doomed.

“President Nico?” the doctor called timidly.

Nico, his face ashen, asked, “How is the gentleman?”.

The doctor said, “The adult is very weak from the miscarriage and, although not life-threatening, needs to be hospitalized to recover.”

Nico nodded mechanically, his voice raspy to the core, “You go downstairs, I want to be alone.”

That night, Nico sat outside Micaela’s hospital room all night, not leaving half a step.

On the other side of the window, the rain poured down like it was going to wash away the whole of La Ciudad Santa.

Nico really wanted, with this heavy rain, to drown it too.