Mommy，We Got a Husband
Chapter 44 Her Condition Is Critical

With every passing second, Alaric found himself in an excruciating limbo, staring at the words "In Surgery" on the door, his hands anxiously clutching his shirt. "Please, Galatea, please be okay," he prayed silently to himself.

The emergency surgery stretched on for nearly six hours, and it was already dawn by the time Galatea was wheeled out of the operating room.

"Doctor, how is she?" Alaric asked, his voice trembling.

"She's out of life-threatening danger, but she has multiple contusions and a traumatic brain injury. We'll have to wait until she wakes up to determine if there will be any cognitive or auditory impairments." 'Traumatic brain injury?' Those words sent a chill down Alaric's spine.

He had requested the best room available, and Galatea was wheeled into the room, still comatose.

"When do you think she'll wake up?"

"With a coma induced by a brain injury, it's hard to say. It could be a day or two, maybe three or four, or even longer," the doctor explained. "Take good care of her and inform us if anything changes." Once the doctor left, it was just the two of them. Alaric sat by her bed. Her complexion was ashen.

He gently lifted her clothing. Her severe wounds had been bandaged, but the sight of the smaller wounds, stained red with blood, was jarring.

After inspecting her injuries, he carefully covered her with the blanket. Looking at her pained him deeply.

"Galatea, please wake up soon."

He recalled his own long coma from years past, a three-year slumber that left him with lingering issues. He couldn't bear the thought of Galatea suffering the same fate.

Alaric spent the whole night awake. Dawn broke without any sign of Galatea waking up. Checking the time, he dialed Silas Moon's number.

"Find me the best private nurse now!" he instructed sharply.

Soon after, Silas Moon provided a professional private nurse. Alaric ordered, "I have to step out for a bit. Take good care of her. Call me immediately if she wakes up or anything changes." "Understood, Mr. Knight."

After leaving the hospital, Alaric headed straight to the police station to uncover the full story of the accident.

"Mr. Knight, here's the surveillance footage from the time of the incident. Please have a look."

The footage was clear. Galatea was hurriedly walking, nibbling on a sandwich, prompting a strong surge of guilt in Alaric.

He had assumed that Galatea simply hadn't prioritized the physical therapy session with him, which was why she had been two hours late. It never crossed his mind that she might have been rushing to him right after a busy shift at the hospital without even taking time to eat.

In the video, she answered a phone call-the one he'd made pressing her for time. After hanging up, she appeared to rush across the street intersection, and that's when the accident happened.

Watching this, Alaric thought, 'Was it right after my urgent call that the accident happened? If I hadn't been so insistent, could this tragedy have been avoided?'

Upon realizing Alaric was on the verge of a breakdown, the police immediately halted the surveillance footage.

"The driver responsible has been apprehended. Preliminary findings point to DUI."

The surveillance made it clear. The pedestrian signal was counting down but still green when the vehicle ran the red light, leading to the tragic result.

"Luck was somewhat on the victim's side. The vehicle first hit a streetlamp at the intersection, which slowed it down before striking her. Had it not been for that, the impact could have been fatal on the spot." "Where is this driver? I want to see him!" He was livid, determined to see that the driver paid for his actions-if not with his life, then with years spent in prison.

"The driver is currently detained, Mr. Knight. I'm afraid you can't see him."

Just then, Alaric's phone rang. It was a call from the intensive care unit. He quickly answered, "Is Galatea awake?"

"No, Mr. Knight, Ms. Galatea's condition has worsened."

Hearing this, Alaric rushed back to the hospital.

"What happened to Galatea?"

"They say her wound has gotten infected, causing a high fever."

When Alaric left, Galatea was pale, but now her face was flushed with fever.

She was in considerable discomfort, brows furrowed tightly, lips parched, mumbling inaudibly, her features twisted in pain-it was clear she was suffering immensely. "Doctor, how could the wounds get infected so suddenly?"

"It's not uncommon after surgery. A high-dose antipyretic could significantly harm her body. We try to avoid it unless absolutely necessary."

"What should we do?"

"We'll start with physical methods to lower her temperature. If there's no improvement within three hours, we'd have to administer the high-dose antipyretic." "Understood."

Afterward, Alaric asked everyone to leave the room, and he began to attentively care for her fever. The doctors had just treated her infected wounds, so he had to be extraordinarily gentle.

Maybe it was the pain, or perhaps she was becoming conscious and remembered something, but even though her eyes remained shut, tears streamed down her face, her body twitching slightly from the pain. "Galatea, I know it hurts. Just hold on. It'll be over soon. I'm here, right here."

Alaric wasn't sure she could hear him, but he kept talking to her, his words eventually becoming almost incoherent.

Seeing her in such agony, his heart broke. He wished he could take her pain and endure it all over again himself.

"I'm sorry, Galatea, it's all my fault. I shouldn't have rushed you. Please, get better soon," Alaric murmured, his voice tinged with regret.

After trying to wipe her with a cool damp cloth, Alaric obsessively checked her temperature, worried it wouldn't drop within three hours. He lost count of how many times he'd taken her temperature or wiped her down with a cool damp cloth. When her temperature finally seemed normal, Alaric could hardly believe his eyes.

"Doctor, her fever's broken!" he exclaimed with a mix of relief and disbelief.

"That's good," the doctor responded calmly. "While she's unconscious, we'll keep her hydrated with glucose and nutrient IVs. She won't be able to eat for 48 hours after waking up."

The thought that she might be unconscious for an unknown time, unable to eat while already hungry before the accident, gnawed at Alaric with guilt. 'Why did I have to rush her? I could've just sent a car to pick her up', he chastised himself internally.

Wracked with remorse and anxiety, Alaric's phone suddenly rang again.