The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon)

Chapter 94



Chapter 94

Thalia’s Pov

As I tried to lift my eyes, they felt heavy like they were glued to my face. I had no idea where I was or

how much time had passed. Everything hurt, and I felt like I was going to puke. Slowly opening my

eyes, I noticed a white ceiling and white walls, indicating that I was in a hospital.

My first thought was of my baby, so I reached out to touch my baby’s hump. However, my hand braised

on what appeared to be a scar, and I winced in pain.

A familiar voice said, “Thalia, oh my G*d, you’re awake.”

Maggie took her phone and instantly contacted Nestor, notifying him that I was awake.

“Maggie, what happened to my baby? What happened to my baby? Where is my baby?” I sobbed.

“Calm down, Thalia, the doctor will be here soon,” she assured me, ignoring my questions.

I attempted to take a seat but failed terribly. Everything felt as if I’d been sprayed with boiling water.

“Where is my baby?” I kept asking.

The door opened and the doctor walked in. I attempted to get up again and asked him where my baby

was.

“What happened to my child? Please tell me where she is?” I was frightened out of my mind. I vividly

could remember how hard I’d hit myself and the blood that was on the floor. Something was wrong, and

no one was telling me.

The doctor checked my vitals and ignored my cries for my baby and my questions. He explained why I

was in the hospital and the life-saving C-section that I underwent but I was not paying attention.

“Can you please tell me where my child is?”

“Miss Thalia, everything appears to be okay for the time being, but I would like you to relax,” the doctor

urged while Maggie just stood in the corner.

“I will calm down when you tell me where my baby is?” I replied.

“Your baby is alive but I’m sorry to say this but your baby is undergoing surgery to correct the bile

duct… we confirmed congenital liver failure,” he finally replied.

I locked my gaze on him, then shifted my gaze to Magie, who was just looking down, her eyes welling

up with tears.

I laughed a little and focused on the doctor.

“I apologize, Miss, but rest assured that the top hepatologist in the country is on the job,” he went on to

say

I wanted everything to be a nightmare, so I slowly lifted my hand and winced as I pinched myself. Tears

streamed down my cheeks as I realized I was doomed to be unhappy for the rest of my life. Every time

was a s*itstorm, but what sin did my baby commit? Then it hit me: all the missed doctor’s

appointments, the neglect, and scans. The sperm we stole and the three lives we ruined. We were

definitely getting punished.

“I killed my baby, and it was all my fault,” I sobbed.

Maggie approached me and attempted to hug me, but I shrugged. I didn’t need sympathy because I felt

worthless. Brandon was correct; I was a complete m*ron who always managed to destroy or lose

anything that came into contact with my clumsy hands.

“Miss, the baby is still alive, and the surgery might be a success and the specialist will come in and

explain once he is done,” the doctor urged, but I simply folded my arms and continued to cry.

He left the room after encouraging me to have hope. But I knew I was being punished and the baby

was paying for my sins, so hope was the last thing I wanted to hold on to.

“Thalia all we have to do is pray for the baby and the success of the surgery. The baby will be alright,” This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

Maggie said.

I turned and slowly got up ignoring the pain that I was in. “Pray to who exactly?” I asked.

“G*d, Thalia,”

I chuckled and almost burst out laughing, “Where was he when my baby was getting infected, so he

punished my baby and then sat around waiting for me to pray?” I asked, pi*sed.

*Thalia I know this is difficult, but…”

“But what???” I yelled at her. She just stared at me without saying a word. I knew I was being unfair to

her and that she only wanted to help but I did not like her prayer topic. If she wanted to pray, she was

free to but had no right to bring it up with me.

The door opened and Nestor walked in, he had probably heard everything from his facial expression

but as usual, he chose to ignore it.

“Hey Thalia, how are you doing?” He asked and took a seat on the bed.

“I…I…,” I stammered not knowing how to reply, everything was a mess.

“It’s all my fault, Nestor,” I cried. He moved over and drew a hug while I cried. ”It’s not your fault Thalia,”

he tried to comfort me but I pushed him away.

“Would you shut up for a second, both of you just shut up!” I yelled at them like a l*natic. My eyes were

almost popping out while my breathing became audibly tense.

“Thalia, just calmed down for a minute?”

“Cut with the c*ap already, you both know it’s my fault, I neglected the baby. It’s all my thought that the

baby is on the operating table and not in here with me. I did not go for my appointments, say it, say it!” I

yelled at both of them.

There was quietness with Nestor’s eyes fixed on the floor.

“For once be honest! And stop being overly nice, just say it!”

“Alright, Thalia, what do you want to hear?” Nestor yelled.

“Son please no,” Maggie tried to stop him but he yelled at her, “Mom, no you are not the one that had to

deal with her s*upidity!”

“Ooh, now we get to see the real Nestor!” I replied.

“Yes it’s your f*cking fault Thalia, how many times did I remind you to go to those appointments! How

many times did I ask you to move to the dumb city!” He asked but I only stared at him furiously.

“You always insulted me, your only priority was Brandon, Brandon, and more Brandon! Why on earth

did you even agree to have a baby!”

“Nestor shut up!” Maggie yelled at him.

“No mother, she wants us to tell her the truth and I will tell her the truth. If it wasn’t for Brandon who

asked me to go back to the house she would be dead because of her s*upidity!” he yelled at me while

my tears just ran down my cheeks.

Everything he was saying was correct, I needed to hear it rather than being baby fed what they wanted

me to hear. Maggie looked at her son disappointed, “This is not how I brought you up,” she said in a

low voice.

Nestor moved closer and tried to hold my hand but I moved mine away and looked away.

“Now that the truth is out of the way, we have to concentrate on the solution here, beating yourself for

the past mistakes is not a solution,” he stated.

A knock came at the door and an old man in a lab coat walked in. He was different from the first doctor

and seemed to be the liver specialist doctor we had been waiting for.

He introduced himself as I wiped my tears and waited for the bad news. He was a very serious man

and went straight to the point without beating around the bush.

“I’m sorry but your daughter has Biliary atresia, a life-threatening congenital condition in infants where

the bile ducts are blocked or have developed abnormally. In your baby’s case it developed abnormally

and blocked the flow of bile from the liver,” he stated.

“Can you fix it?” Nestor asked.

“Are you the father?” The doctor asked.

“How is that part of your dumb business!” Nestor yelled at him and ordered him to answer the dumb

question.

“What caused it,” I quickly asked. I needed the answer before knowing the solution, I wanted to know if

I caused my baby’s condition.

“Please tell me if It’s my fault?” I cried out.

“There are a lot of causes such as; A viral or bacterial infection after birth. An immune system problem,

such as when the immune system attacks the liver or bile ducts for one or two reasons,” he announced

and I breathed a sense of relief.

It was not my fault after all but thinking about it again maybe if I did the scans the doctors would have

detected it.

” A genetic mutation. This is a long-lasting change in a gene’s structure or a problem during liver and

bile duct development in the fetus and lastly, Contact with toxic substances,” he added

“So in short you are saying it’s not the mother’s fault?” Maggie asked.

“Let’s not dwell on that, I heard you all arguing about whose fault it is but let me tell you that little girl

needs all the positive support and not self-blaming,” the doctor stated, further annoying me.

“Now let’s concentrate on making the little angel healthy,” he said. Somehow I felt a sense of relief, he

sounded like he had a solution. I wiped my tears and faced him.

“Infants with biliary atresia are treated with a type of surgery called the Kasai procedure. This removes

the damaged bile ducts and replaces them with a section of the small intestine. Bile then flows right to

the small intestine but we tried that and were not successful,” he stated.

I wanted to yell at him but I restrained myself and held on to my sheets instead.

“But there is a last option, a liver transplant and that’s why I asked if this gentleman was the girl’s father

because we need a match for a liver transplant,” he asked.

The room fell silent, Nestor turned to face Maggie, who turned to face me, and I just stared at the door.

“How does a transplant work?” Nestor was the one who inquired.

“Don’t worry, a living liver donation is a safe procedure in which we cut a small piece of your liver and

transplant it into the baby without harming you. As you know, the liver is an o*gan that can repair itself,”

he elaborated.

“However, we must first perform a blood test because the infant has rare protein markers that I’m sure

can be found in the father or mother.”

“Take my liver then!” I yelled.

“I’m sorry but you just had a C-section and lost a lot of blood so we can’t risk your life,” the doctor

replied.

“Are you s*upid! This is my baby!” I yelled at him.

“Thalia calm down,” Nestor cut in, “What if we use any liver with the same blood type?”

“Like I said earlier, your baby has a set of rare markers and if we got any random liver it will trigger an

autoimmune reaction and lead us back to square one,” he replied.

“Can’t we look for another matching donor except for the parents?” Nestor asked

“Wait a minute ain’t you the father?” The doctor asked.

“No, I’m just the pilot and she used a sperm donor,” Nestor lied while I just sat in my bed lost.

“Ooh, I thought you were the father, but I’m sorry to say this but the protein makers I’m talking about

are one in a million, it will be a miracle to find a donor.”

“Just take my b*oody liver!” I yelled at him, p*ssed.

“I’m sorry that’s a death sentence to you and no doctor in his right mind would do the procedure on you

and there is a possibility that you do not have the markers and that’s why the baby attacked its own

liver,” he added.

I was at loss, I felt like screaming for the whole world to hear me, I grabbed the pillows and began

throwing them at him. Why was the world against me, what crime did I commit? Maggie climbed on the

bed and held me as I cried my heart out.

While Nestor took the doctor outside as the room became unsuitable for a discussion. I was definitely

cursed, I was really cursed but who cursed me?”


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