Love beyond the mask (Whitney) novel Chapter 1167

When Dad and I came into view, Mr. Sheldon nodded at us, then quietly turned and walked away without a word.

“What’s going on?” I whispered. “Aren’t Mr. Sheldon and your mom supposed to see each other?”

Yael probably knew something—Uncle must have told her about the stuff that happened between Mom and Dad back in the day.

Whitney couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. Her dad must have known Mom had no one else to look after her, so he kept watch from a distance. But he didn’t dare go inside, not even to catch her eye. The more he cherished her, the more afraid he became.

He was scared Mom wouldn’t want to see him, that she’d hate him or blame him—anything but welcome him back.

After all, Mom had lost her memory for years now. If someone mentioned the name “Hudson,” what would she even remember? Good things? Bad things? Would she even recognize Dad at all? Whitney didn’t have a clue.

She knew she would have to plan their first reunion carefully—find some opportunity to break the ice between them.

These thoughts kept spinning in her mind. Meanwhile, Ludwik’s surgeon hadn’t come out of the OR, not even once.

“Whitney, I brought dinner!”

Sandy burst in, holding some takeout. She spread a disposable tablecloth over the communal table. “You look pale and worn out, so I got some chicken noodle soup and a turkey sandwich. Not exactly grandma’s cooking, but it’ll have to do. Has the surgeon come out with any news?”

Whitney shook her head, glancing at her watch. “It’s been three hours. From what I know, removing a bullet shouldn’t take this long. The abdominal wound must be complicated. If the bullet pierced the cavity—”

“Hey, hey, knock on wood!” Sandy interrupted, shooting her a look. “Don’t jinx it, okay? You shouldn’t talk like that about your own guy!”

“If it really was that bad, Ludwik wouldn’t have even made it here in the first place. Can’t you hope for the best? And honestly, do you still hate Ludwik at this point?”

Sandy’s question hit home, making Whitney flush and fall silent.

Hate him? That wasn’t even on her mind anymore. All she wanted was for him to survive. “Of course not,” she murmured.

As long as he was alive, there was hope. There was always hope.

“I just want him to make it,” Whitney whispered, staring into the steam rising from her soup as her eyes filled with tears.

Sandy grinned, deeply relieved. She’d been afraid Whitney would still be lost in doubt.

She glanced at the operating room doors. “Whitney, you know, if Ludwik could hear you right now, even if his heart stopped, he’d fight his way back just to see you.”

Whitney’s heart skipped. “Don’t even say that! That’s bad luck.”

“Worried about him, huh?” Sandy teased, grinning even wider.

And just like that, with Sandy’s joking and fussing, the night passed. By the time dawn broke, the lights over the OR finally flicked off. The surgeon came out, looking exhausted, and called out in a loud voice, “Family of the patient?”