Patience Heart

Finding Adam

It had been five long days in the hospital. Five days that felt like weeks. This pregnancy was different from when I had Timmy. Back then, I had my strength, my resilience, my energy. But now, I felt like a shadow of my former self. Weak, constantly tired, and with a body that seemed to betray me at every turn. The doctors said it was because of a lack of proper nutrition, combined with the stress that had overwhelmed me since I found out I was pregnant again.

But finally, today was the day I was being discharged. I could leave the sterile white walls of the hospital and return to some semblance of normalcy—whatever that meant for me now.

Mr. Lee, who had been visiting me regularly—more than once a day—was waiting outside my hospital room. He had come to check in so many times, sometimes saying nothing at all, just sitting on the couch in the corner, tapping away on his laptop while I rested. It was odd at first, having him there, this figure of authority and power who I knew more as a boss than a friend. But slowly, his presence became a source of quiet reassurance. He didn't demand anything from me, didn't pressure me with questions or judgments—he just... stayed. And that was enough.

Today, he offered to drive me home. William and Diane, who had been my rock throughout this whole ordeal, couldn't pick me up from San Jose due to their commitments. I had expected Mr. Lee to arrange for one of his drivers to take me back, like he normally did when commuting from his home to the office. But today was different. He insisted on driving me himself.

I was still surprised when we walked toward his car, and there he was—behind the wheel, no chauffeur in sight. It was strange to think of him in such an intimate, personal role. Mr. Lee was the CEO of Chattame, a man whose life was ruled by structure and assistants and a tight schedule. And yet, here he was, insisting on driving me to San Francisco as though it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Wow," I murmured as we settled into the car. The leather seats were as pristine as I imagined his life was—smooth, polished, and without a wrinkle. "You drive yourself?"

He gave me a sidelong glance, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "I don't always rely on others, Ms. Turner."

I smiled back, but my thoughts were heavy. As the engine purred and we merged onto the highway, the silence between us felt comfortable, yet charged with something unsaid. I had questions swirling in my mind, questions that had been eating at me for days now, but I wasn't sure how to bring them up.

Finally, as we neared the outskirts of the city, I gathered my courage and asked, "Mr. Lee... about Adam... he's in China, right? Do you know which city?"

Mr. Lee's grip on the wheel tightened slightly, but his face remained calm. He glanced at me briefly before turning his eyes back to the road. "Yes, he's in China," he confirmed, his voice measured. "He's been working on a project in Shenzhen for the past few months."

"Shenzhen," I repeated, the name unfamiliar and distant, just like Adam had become. I felt a wave of emotion swell in my chest as memories of our time together resurfaced—how he always talked about traveling, working abroad, and achieving his goals. And now, here he was, far away from me, building a life I wasn't part of anymore.

Mr. Lee seemed to sense my hesitation, and before I could ask my next question, he cut straight to the point. "Is Adam the father of your baby, Ms. Turner?"

The directness of his question caught me off guard. My heart stuttered, and for a moment, I couldn't speak. The words were heavy on my tongue, but there was no point in hiding the truth anymore. I nodded slowly, my eyes dropping to my lap.

"Yes," I whispered, feeling the weight of that admission all over again. "Adam is the father."

Mr. Lee didn't react immediately. He kept his focus on the road, his expression unchanged, but I could feel the shift in the air between us. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer, almost cautious. "I see."