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Chapter 20 Atheist Prayer
Chapter 20 Atheist Prayer
Last night, Michael had a nightmare. In his dream, Lily died again on the operating table.
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When he awoke, the world outside his window felt as cold as a new Ice Age, with temperatures plummeting well below freezing. He opened the window, letting the snowflakes pelt his face, a self–imposed punishment.
Michael envied Louis deeply. Louis had the right to stand by Lily’s side openly, to support her through countless challenges, to raise a beautiful child with her–dreams Michael had once yearned for as a young man but would now never realize.
In his dream, those soft lips he had kissed innumerable times spoke words cold and final.
“Michael, do you want to kill me a second time? Take another step closer, and I won’t go through with this surgery.
“As you wish, I’ll die in front of you again.”
Michael’s pallor was evident. Every time he woke from such nightmares, he was drenched in cold sweat, his limbs numb. Charlotte had told him that enduring these panic symptoms was far from ideal.
So he reached for his medication, his hands shaking as he poured a handful from the tiny bottle and shoved them into his mouth, his teeth clenching tightly.
Bitter:
In the hallway, outside the operating room, Louis stood by the emergency exit, encountering Michael lighting a cigarette,
“I don’t smoke, Louis said, his gaze complex as he declined the offered cigarette.
Michael didn’t appear offended. He looked downcast, an aura of misfortune clinging to him.
With the cigarette dangling from his lips, Michael leaned against the door, his eyes glazed and distant through the smoke. He asked softly, “Aren’t you nervous?”
“Lily promised me,” Louis replied indirectly. “She’ll be fine.”
Of course, he was nervous, but he couldn’t show it. In this family with a sick Lily and a young Cici, Louis had to remain strong, the pillar that held everything together.
If he showed fear, who would comfort Cici and Lily?
A month ago, Michael and Louis were bitter rivals, but now they shared similar feelings.
Each man claimed a spot outside the operating room, their breaths visible in the cold winter air.
“You haven’t found a new mate?” Louis asked.
Michael lit a second cigarette, the lighter’s flame briefly illuminating his sweaty forehead. He hesitated before smoking. letting the cigarette burn between his fingers.
“No.” He chuckled bitterly. “The Moon Goddess has abandoned me. A wretch like me doesn’t deserve a new mate…
“Glad you realize that, Louis said coldly. “You’re ill.”
Thanks for the concern, Michael replied, unfazed by his condition.
don’t want you to die,” Louis–stated abruptly. “If you die, it’s unfair to me. You are too significant in Lily’s life; I have to admit that. If you die, she’ll remember you forever.
“She’d build a grave for you in her heart, leaving no room for me. I can’t accept that.
For three years, I’ve been the one by her side, giving everything for her. Michael, if you still consider yourself an Alpha, if you feel any remorse, please don’t disturb her anymore. You should live well, remain the high–and–mighty Alpha she
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Chapter 20 Atheist Prayer
remembers, so she can finally forget you.”
”
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Louis spoke slowly, the cold wind howling around the stairwell. Michael listened in silence until the burning cigarette stung his fingers, snapping him out of his daze.
“Alright,” he nodded.
Louis was right.
Jessica’s death wasn’t Lily’s fault. Yet, he had tormented Lily for five years under that pretense and nearly driven her to death multiple times,
Michael’s throat felt dry, his voice struggling to emerge. He exhaled a hot breath, his lips parting as if to speak, but Louis didn’t look at him, instead opening the door and leaving.
Michael’s phone buzzed in his pocket, likely a call from Charlotte. She was a diligent doctor, knowledgeable in her field but unable to lift the heavy burden from Michael’s heart.
Michael knew healing his heart was simple: he just needed to forget Lily.
But his desire to see her was like a stolen flame, trapping him like Prometheus bound to a cliff, torn apart daily by an eagle’s beak, yet finding perverse pleasure in it.
An hour and a half into the surgery, despite the doctors warnings about potential delays, Louis grew increasingly anxious. Sitting on a bench outside the operating room, his forehead resting on his fingers, he prayed to the Moon Goddess.
As a former doctor and staunch atheist, Louis never believed in divine intervention until the life of the person he cherished: most hung in the balance. Now, he understood why hospitals were filled with prayers day and night.
“Is the patient’s family here?” The operating room door briefly opened and closed. Louis stood up immediately, looking nervously at the nurse.
*Please sign the critical condition notice,” the nurse said, pointing to the stark white document.
Louis was stunned. As a doctor, he had asked countless families to sign this form, but facing it himself, his hands shook so much he could barely hold the pen.
Even knowing this didn’t necessarily mean Lily was in serious trouble.
The nurse seemed urgent. Louis bit his lip, forced himself to calm down, and signed his name swiftly. She turned and hurried back into the operating room.
His eyes reddened, and he couldn’t sit still anymore. He stood and began pacing anxiously.
