Chapter 718 Chandler Finally Saw His Child
Meryl hadn’t meant to do it. She hadn’t planned to hurt Chandler. To make matters worse, he seemed to be pretty banged up–blood was already seeping from the wound on his face.
Meryl bit her lip, guilt flashing across her face. “I didn’t mean to… You need to take care of that.”
Chandler didn’t seem to care. “It’s just a scratch.”
Meryl insisted, “It still needs to be taken care of.” Saying that, she turned around, walked over to the cabinet, and picked up the first-aid kit. Then, without another word, she placed it in front of him, leaving him to handle it himself.
Chandler’s gaze darkened slightly, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “I can’t do it myself. Meryl, can you help me?”
Meryl hesitated. He lowered his eyes, staring at her smooth, delicate face before speaking again, his tone a little stifled. “You’re so eager to run off to the hospital and help Felix with his medical acupuncture, but you can’t even help me with this? And this,” he motioned toward his face, “was your doing. Doesn’t it bother you?”
After a moment of thought, she relented. She was still annoyed, but that didn’t stop her from opening the medical kit. The cut on Chandler’s face wasn’t deep, but it ran nearly half a finger’s length across his skin.
After a brief pause, Meryl picked up a cotton swab, soaked it in alcohol, and dabbed it onto his wound. The sharp sting made his brows knit together.
Chandler had a feeling she was doing this on purpose. It was like she was getting back at him in her own way. But her face remained neutral—no hint of smugness, no sign of malice.
The sudden pain made his throat bob slightly. He caught Meryl’s hand and murmured, “Meryl… it hurts.”
Chandler had always carried himself with a strong, composed presence, never once showing weakness in front of others. Seeing him like this now felt like such a stark contrast. Especially with his sharp, refined features—his brows were furrowed, and a fine layer of sweat had formed at his temples. It must have hurt more than he let on.
So, Meryl lightened her touch. She switched to a different ointment and gently applied it. “How about now? Does it still hurt?”
Chandler had a small smile. He closed his eyes and murmured, “Thanks for taking care of me. It doesn’t hurt anymore. Actually… I feel lucky. I know you care about me. You just don’t want to say it.” His voice was quiet, but the happiness in it was unmistakable.
What he wanted had always been simple–just a lifetime with the person he loved. Only when he was with Meryl did he feel truly at ease, like he could finally breathe.
Meryl lowered her gaze, saying nothing. Once she finished tending to the wound, she started putting everything back in place. But just as she was about to close the kit, Chandler wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her against him. “Meryl, you came back. You’re here. That’s all I wanted. And I promise you, I won’t take this for granted.”
She stayed silent. Chandler just held her for a long, long time. Eventually, when she realized he had no intention of letting go, she finally spoke, “I’m tired. I need some rest. Chandler, can you leave?”
“Leave?” He blinked, startled. He hadn’t expected that, but after a brief pause, he nodded. Meryl still hadn’t fully forgiven him– he knew better than to push too hard.
Chandler softly said, “Alright. I’ll sleep in the study. Get some rest.” With that, he quietly closed the door behind him as he walked out.
In the middle of the night, Meryl lay in bed, unable to sleep. Just then, a message from Anne popped up: [Why’d you move back home? Does this mean you’ve forgiven Chandler?]
Meryl held her phone, suddenly realizing–it wasn’t that she had forgiven Chandler. She just wanted to observe him a little longer. After all, she couldn’t completely write him off just because he messed up once. Putting Rachel aside, he was actually pretty reliable in other aspects.
What caught Meryl off guard, though, was that early the next morning, John showed up. He had been studying abroad and originally planned to stay overseas to build his career. But the moment he heard she’d had a baby, he didn’t hesitate to book the next flight and rush back.
John looked like he had come straight from the airport, dragging in several bags. As soon as he stepped through the door, he asked, “Hey, Meryl. Now where’s my nephew?”
Meryl lowered her eyes, softly replying, “He was born premature. So, he’s still in the hospital.”
John started unpacking the supplements he’d brought for her from his suitcase as he asked, “He’s still not discharged? When can I see him?”
Meryl sighed, “Probably gonna be a while.”
Noticing her lack of enthusiasm–no trace of the usual joy a new mother should have–John frowned, “What’s wrong?”
All he knew was that Meryl had gotten into a car accident, which had triggered the premature birth. But that was all secondhand information from Bianca–he had no idea about the details.
So, Meryl laid everything out for John, telling him exactly what had happened over the past few days.
The moment she finished, John exploded. He shot up from the couch like a firecracker. “Wait–so when you got into that accident, not only was Chandler not there, but he straight–up ditched you for another woman?” He was young, hot–blooded, and not exactly the type to hold back. His outrage was written all over his face.
“Where the hell is Chandler? I need to see him!” John rolled up his sleeves as he spoke, looking like he was ready to throw hands.
But Chandler had already left early that morning. Even though he had promised to take Meryl to the hospital for Felix’s medical acupuncture, he was nowhere to be found when she woke up. The only sign he had been there was the breakfast he had made, still warm on the table. But as for where he went–she had no idea. She didn’t bother calling him either.
Meryl kept her eyes down, eating breakfast as she said, “He probably had something to take care of.” Then, she wondered, “Maybe… something happened at the hospital where Rachel is?”
Chandler had indeed gone to the hospital early in the morning, but he had gone to the one where Meryl had given birth.
A pediatrician had called him, saying that during the routine echocardiogram that morning, they had found something off with the baby’s heart. There seemed to be a problem.
Chandler didn’t want Meryl to worry–especially not while she was still in her postpartum recovery. The last thing he wanted was for her to overthink things, so he came alone to speak with the doctor.
In the NICU, Chandler finally saw his child. The little one was already two weeks old, but still so tiny, curled up in the incubator like a newborn kitten, eyes shut tight.
His skin was thin, almost translucent, with a faint purplish tint, making him look even more fragile. Seeing this, Chandler felt a storm of emotions rise in his chest.
He definitely had the appearance of a premature baby–his features weren’t fully developed yet. But strangely enough, he didn’t really resemble Chandler. Still, maybe it was that natural fatherly bond, but Chandler felt his heart clench hard. He also knew all too well–his child wasn’t supposed to be born this early.
Chandler turned to the doctor and asked, “What’s wrong with his heart?”
The attending physician looked just as puzzled. Just a short while ago, the baby had only been diagnosed with a patent foramen ovale—a small hole in the heart that usually closed on its own.
It was a common issue in preemies, and as long as he was carefully monitored in his first year, it wasn’t supposed to be a big deal.
But when they ran the tests again that morning, something had suddenly changed–the problem with the baby’s heart had gotten significantly worse. And it left the doctor wondering, “Had the ultrasound technician missed something during the initial exam, or was this a complication from the premature birth?”
When the doctor fell silent for a while, Chandler’s expression darkened, and he said, “Just say it straight. I can handle it.”
No matter what, this was his child–their child, his and Meryl’s. He would accept whatever came their way. No matter how much it cost, he wouldn’t hesitate.