Hazel's Redemption

JUST THAT NIGHT

"There isn't much to worry about. You just need to lie here and finish the IV infusion. You shouldn’t feel any more pain after that."

Yohan said, settling not far from Hazel, who had an IV drip. The sachet was still full, but she watched the liquid slowly make its way down. She didn’t feel it pass through her veins, yet she knew it was working, entering her body little by little.

"Do you think it’ll take long to fully get into my system?" she asked.

Yohan glanced at the drip, already beginning its slow work.

"Stop being impatient. Why are you always so anxious to leave? In your condition, you shouldn’t even think about leaving the hospital for a day."

"In my condition?" Hazel thought, realizing she had lived longer than expected and often forgot that her life had been hanging by a thread. Her being alive now was perhaps a miracle—or Yohan’s unwavering efforts—or something she couldn’t quite define.

"Yohan?"

"Uhm?" he hummed, eyes still fixed on the test results he had just received from the nurse.

"My life… how long do you think I have left?"

Yohan paused, hesitant. He had always known this question would come, yet he had hoped it never would.

Ever since youth, Hazel had been diagnosed with heart failure. Her parents spared no effort to keep her alive, even spending almost all of their life savings on a risky operation. It had allowed her to live a relatively normal life for a child her age.

Time passed, and her heart should have stabilized. But the day she risked her life to save Ethan, her condition worsened significantly. That she had survived until now was nothing short of miraculous.

"Hazel…"

"You don’t need to hold back, Yohan. I studied nursing too, and I know my time on this earth is limited."

"Don’t lose hope," he said softly.

"I wish I were as optimistic as you, but… I know my body better than anyone. It has reached its limits."

It was sad but true. Her body depended entirely on the drugs that sustained her life.

"I just regret one thing… that I couldn’t make Ethan fall for me, and I couldn’t show him who Ivy Edgard really is versus who I am."

"Stop talking nonsense. You’re not going to die. You’ll have time to make Ivy pay for everything she’s done."

"Do you really think so?"

Yohan nodded with a reassuring smile. Hazel wondered if he was just comforting her, but the expression in his eyes gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, she could live longer.

"You have to live, Hazel. I won’t let you die to please Ivy."

"…"

"I heard rumors about a miracle doctor."

"A miracle doctor?"

"Yes. A cardiologist, to be precise. They say he’s unmatched, trained in Chinese acupuncture and knowledgeable in traditional Chinese medicine."

"Is he a foreigner?"

"No, mixed blood. But he’s so low-profile that he’s practically a legend."

"A legend…" Hazel repeated, unsure whether to hope or doubt.

"Yes, a legendary cardiologist. I believe his skills can keep you alive until we find a suitable heart for you."

The cardiologist sounded like a myth, but Hazel allowed herself a fragile hope. Still, doubts lingered. What if she didn’t live long enough to find him? And even if she did, for whom would she continue living—Ethan, Yohan, her father?

"You have to endure a little longer, Hazel. I’m going on a trip soon to find that legendary doctor, and I won’t return until I succeed."

"You’re… leaving?"

"Yes. But I’ll leave your care in Kavin’s hands."

Kavin wasn’t a stranger. He was as skilled as Yohan, and they got along well. The only complication was that he had once confessed his love for her—with Ethan present that day.

"Yohan, Kavin is good, but you know…"

"You don’t need to worry. Kavin’s decent; he won’t trouble you since you’re married."

"It feels awkward…"

"Bear with it, honey. I’ll be back soon. Kavin is the only one I can trust with your health."

Though uneasy, Hazel had no choice. Yohan was right—Kavin was probably the only one capable.

"Okay. We’ll do as you say."

Hazel stayed at the hospital until the IV was finished before heading home. It was hard to leave, but she managed.

"Young Mrs… you’re finally back," Aunt Jane greeted her at the door. Hazel expected to see Ethan with Ivy, but no one was there.

"You don’t need to look further, Young Mrs… Young Mrs. Emily went home, and the young master accompanied your sister to a party. They might be away all night," Aunt Jane explained.

"I see…" Hazel’s expression fell. Ethan had never taken her out voluntarily; only family duty had taken him to business cocktail parties with her.

"Thanks, Aunt Jane. I’ll rest in my room. No need to cook for me; I ate with my cousin."

"As you wish, Young Mrs…"

Aunt Jane watched her climb the stairs to her room, the one where she spent so many lonely days. Hazel was married to Ethan, yet he treated her poorly. Aunt Jane couldn’t understand why he failed to see Ivy’s true nature.

Back in her room, Hazel spent her time on the couch, reading medical books. If she hoped for a second chance at life, she needed to dream bigger—perhaps of becoming a doctor. She had already graduated, excelling as the top student, which might explain Ivy’s jealousy.

Hazel had never hurt Ivy, yet Ivy continually hurt her.

"It’s suddenly hot in here," Hazel murmured, walking to the bathroom for a cold bath. Despite Yohan’s advice against it, she felt too warm to wait.

After a few minutes, she returned, wrapped in a white towel, hair still wet. Then, a loud knock at the door startled her—revealing a disheveled Ethan.

"Ethan?"

His hair and clothes were messy, buttons undone, revealing his chest. He stumbled, steps unsteady. Panic surged through Hazel as she helped him onto the bed. He smelled strongly of alcohol. She couldn’t understand why Ivy wasn’t with him.

"Forget it…" Hazel sighed, retrieving a towel to wipe him. But as she did, Ethan caught her hand.

"Your hand…" he murmured, his voice soft.

He gripped her hand, as if refusing to let go. Hazel prepared to leave.

"Sorry, I’ll leave now," she said, but Ethan tightened his hold.

"Ethan?"

"Your scent… it’s addictive… pleasant."

"Huh!"

Ethan pulled her onto the bed, pressing her against him. His kiss was warm and gentle, catching Hazel by surprise. But she kissed back instinctively. When he pulled away, his gaze was tender, even lustful, showing no disgust or hatred.

Hazel felt disappointed—he was drunk, and perhaps mistaking her for Ivy.

"Ethan, you’re drunk. You should rest," she said.

But he knelt above her, hands pinned above her head, eyes dark with desire.

"Ethan, what are you doing? Let go… ahh!" she moaned.

"Don’t…" she protested.

"I want you, Hazel…"

Her eyes widened. Normally, a drunk man would call the girl he loved by name—but Ethan called hers. Could this mean… he loved her? She dared to hope.

"Ethan, you…"

He silenced her with a kiss, seeking to prevent any more words.

"Don’t say anything. Let me explore you."

Perhaps that night was a mistake—or the dream she had longed for. Hazel couldn’t tell. Yet, even if it was the last time, she allowed it, holding onto the hope that Ethan loved her.

"Just that night…"