The Fallen Heiress: Contract Marriage with the CEO Who Hates Me
Chapter 36: Waiting

Chapter 36: Waiting

Vernon had no idea how long he had been standing in front of this hospital room. Minutes? Maybe longer. His hand hovered just inches from the door handle, hesitant to slide it open.

The nameplate was missing, and officially, this VIP room was marked as unoccupied. But Vernon knew exactly who was inside.

"Mr. Lin."

A voice pulled him from his thoughts. He turned to see a short, bald man in white scrubs approaching with a polite, familiar smile.

Dr. Winslow—the hospital’s chief surgeon. From the exhaustion lining his face, it was clear he had just finished his shift.

"Why are you here?" the doctor asked, stopping beside him. "Aren’t you going to visit your mother?"

Vernon offered him a small, friendly smile and shook his hand. "Yes, I just... needed a moment to gather myself."

Dr. Winslow gave him a sympathetic nod. "I understand," he said, his voice laced with regret. Then, after a brief sigh, he continued, "I’m sorry, Mr. Lin. You know our policy—the pediatric department gets priority for transplants. Unfortunately for your mother, none of the scheduled procedures were canceled. I’m afraid the waiting continues..."

Vernon’s jaw tightened, but he forced himself to reply evenly. "Well..." His tone came out sharper than intended, but he quickly softened it. "As long as you’re doing your best, Dr. Winslow."

"Yes... of course," the doctor murmured, his gaze flickering with something unreadable.

Vernon nodded and took a step back. "I’ll go see my mother now. Have a good day, Doctor."

Dr. Winslow only nodded in return, watching as Vernon turned on his heel and disappeared around the corner. His mother’s VIP room was just ahead.

With a soft knock, Vernon slid the door open and stepped inside, his footsteps light and deliberate. The room was silent except for the rhythmic beeping of the monitors, yet his mother was already wide awake. A thick, well-worn book rested in her frail hands, its pages slightly yellowed from age.

"Vernon! You’re early today," Janet Lin greeted him with a warm smile, setting the book aside.

"I have a busy day ahead," he explained, moving closer to her bedside. "But I wanted to stop by first and share some important news with you."

"Oh? I’m all ears!"

There was a clear note of excitement in her voice, and her eyes sparkled with hope. It was the kind of hopeful glee that squeezed at Vernon’s heart like an iron grip.

Every time he visited, she reacted the same way. Every time, she secretly prayed that the news he brought would be about her illness—or rather, about the person who could finally put an end to it.

A little over a year ago, Janet Lin had been diagnosed with advanced liver cirrhosis, the disease progressing with merciless speed, destroying her liver cell by cell.

Vernon had spared no effort in trying to save her.

He had immediately admitted her to the best hospital in the country, ensured that the top specialists oversaw her care, and exhausted every possible medical resource.

But for once, his vast wealth meant nothing. No amount of power, connections, or influence could change the one thing that mattered most—the transplant waiting list.

"I’m sorry, Mr. Lin, but you cannot donate a portion of your liver. Your blood type is not compatible with your mother’s. She will have to wait."

Wait.

That single word haunted him, taunting him with its helplessness.

Doctor Winslow’s verdict echoed in Vernon’s mind every time he set foot in this hospital. No matter how many times he replayed the conversation, no matter how hard he tried to find another solution, the reality remained unchanged—his mother was still waiting.

Looking at Janet’s hopeful expression, Vernon clenched his fists at his sides, frustration simmering beneath the surface. It boiled in his veins, burning through him like a relentless fire, threatening to consume him whole.

Even now, he couldn’t bring himself to say the words out loud. He simply shook his head, a barely perceptible movement, but enough for his mother to understand. The hope in her eyes dimmed for a brief moment before she quickly masked it with a gentle smile.

"It’s fine," she said softly, patting the space beside her on the bed, inviting him to sit. "I suppose this is my fate. There’s no point in fighting it, is there?"

Vernon’s jaw tightened at her resignation. "You still have time," he said firmly, unwilling to let her give up so easily. "Don’t be so quick to assume the worst. This is the best hospital in the country, but some things... even money can’t buy. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying. I will do whatever it takes to make sure you get a donor. Just trust me, like you always have. Alright?"

A warm, wistful smile spread across Janet’s face as she reached out and covered his hand with her own. "I trust you, my son. I always have," she murmured. Then, after a brief pause, she squeezed his fingers gently and added, "I am grateful that you were able to get your back surgery in time. You look stronger now, healthier. That brings me peace. But my greatest wish... is to see you start your own family. To watch you build a life with someone who loves you."

Vernon exhaled slowly, running a hand through his thick dark hair. His mother’s words weighed on him, not because he disagreed, but because he knew exactly where this conversation was leading. After a long pause, he finally met her gaze.

"This is the news I came to share with you today, Mother," he said evenly. "I’m getting married."

***

Jane sat curled up in her new bed, her thin arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Though physically exhausted, sleep had eluded her for most of the night. She had spent hours tossing and turning, her mind restless and crowded with thoughts she couldn’t silence.

It wasn’t until nearly six in the morning that she finally drifted off, only to be woken shortly after by the soft creak of the door. A maid entered, carrying a silver tray with breakfast.

Jane blinked sleepily, recognizing the woman as the same one who had served her tea last night. The maid’s warm, friendly smile made her tense shoulders relax—if only just a little.

"Excuse m-me," Jane murmured hesitantly, still unsure of how to navigate her new reality. "Is Mr. L-Lin awake?" She wasn’t sure if calling him by his first name would be appropriate under the circumstances.

The maid’s eyebrows lifted slightly, as if surprised by the question, but she quickly masked it with another polite smile. Setting the tray on the nightstand, she responded, "Of course, Ms. Devold. Mr. Lin wakes up early every day. He’s already left for the morning."

"Ah... I see," Jane said softly, lowering her gaze. "I-it’s nothing important."

The maid nodded in understanding before excusing herself, leaving Jane alone once again.

With a small sigh, Jane glanced at the vintage clock on the nightstand, its golden hands pointing to just past eight. Saturday morning... she noted absently. Did he really go to the office this early?

Instinctively, she reached for her new phone, unlocking it with a swipe before tapping the "Contacts" icon. The list was empty.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. Not even his own number? How... shortsighted.

Letting out a quiet exhale, she locked the screen and set the phone aside. Her gaze drifted toward the closed doors. She knew he would return eventually. It was only a matter of time.