Fati felt as though Jaguar had drenched her in buckets of ice-cold water. Her mouth hung open in shock, the words dying in her throat. At first, she couldn't grasp the cruelty of what she had just heard, so she asked in a low, trembling voice,
- I beg your pardon?
He repeated his sentence with the same deadly coldness, severing every thread of hope she held. She wanted to scream "Why?" in his face, but the presence of the nurse and her sense of professional exposure unnerved her. Her eyes remained locked onto his harsh gaze, and suddenly, they began to glisten with searing tears she couldn't suppress.
In that moment, she realized that no matter how hard she tried, she would never change his mind. She was like someone blowing air into a "broken vessel." In a choked voice, trying to salvage what remained of her dignity, she said,
- Fine. Wait for the other doctor to arrive and perform the surgery.
She turned and walked away with lost steps. Along the way, her mind buzzed with one single question: where would she sleep tonight? Since he didn't trust her, there was no longer any point in living in his apartment or sharing his bed.
Without realizing it, Fati's tears began to slide down her cheeks as she walked away from Jaguar. Suddenly, she felt a powerful hand grip her wrist, and his firm voice demanded:
- Where do you think you're going?
She replied with a shattered calmness,
- To rest.
But he knew from the tremor in her voice that she was crying. He didn't let her go; instead, he forced her into a nearby janitor's closet.
- You're crying... why?
He asked sharply. Wiping her tears quickly, she denied her vulnerability:
- I'm not crying. Why on earth would I cry?
She raised her face to him with a wounded pride, despite the brokenness dwelling deep within her. He looked at her coldly and said,
- You must stay. You are part of the family.
She let out a scathing, cynical smile that pierced through his silence:
- Family? Which family are you talking about? The one that threw me away as a child? The family that kicked me out six years ago? Or the family that clings to me now only to keep me by their side... just so I don't kill one of them?
She uttered those words as she pried her arm from his grip, but her eyes caught a strange swelling on the back of the hand that had held her. It was the aftermath of the boiling soup that had scorched him only hours ago. Despite the agonizing pain he must have been feeling, he hadn't complained or shown any weakness. This time, she didn't pull away; her fingers began to instinctively trace the inflamed burns.
Jaguar, oblivious to her healing touch, continued to justify his harshness in a voice struggling for steadiness:
- I didn't refuse for that reason... I refused because you are exhausted; you've only slept two hours. And also, because you are family. If anything goes wrong in that operating room, you will carry the guilt for the rest of your life, and
- Save your excuses for yourself,
she interrupted with a merciless bitterness.
- You simply don't trust me, just like before.
She fell silent for a moment, still staring at his hand, scorched by the flames, then asked with a stinging irony:
- And do you even know how many hours of sleep the doctor who's on his way has had?
Jaguar tilted his head, unable to find an answer. Her words had silenced him, leaving him trapped between his hidden concern and her undeniable, painful logic.
Jaguar asked in a hesitant tone, trying to mask his growing concern:
- Do you truly wish to perform this surgery?
In an instant, hope flooded Fati's eyes, making them glow with a radiant green the same hue Jaguar used to see six years ago, the color that once set his heart ablaze. She replied with an uncontrollable eagerness:
- Yes... yes, please! I want this so much. Let me save him. I will perform a secondary procedure alongside the surgery; I'm certain it will save him. Please... let me.
Jaguar bowed his head in agreement; he realized that his heart trusted those green eyes, no matter how much his mind resisted. He whispered softly,
- I will let you, Fati. I'm placing my grandfather in your hands. Please... save him.
As she stood before him, she felt the radiating heat from his body; his fever was spiking again, demanding attention. Feeling the weight of the trust he had placed in her, she said with firm resolve,
- Thank you. I will strive to be worthy of your trust.
Fati let go of his hand at that moment, and only then did Jaguar realize with a start that she had been the one holding onto him, not the other way around. With professional precision, she pulled out her phone and called her assistant:
- Prepare the operating room immediately. I will be performing the surgery.
She began barking orders before exiting the cramped room without a backward glance.
Jaguar remained where he was, staring at his burnt hand that had just been cradled in her warmth. Only now did the sting of the burns awaken, but it was nothing compared to the ache in his heart. He knew his consent was a fateful moment; if Fati failed, he didn't know how he would feel, but it would surely mean a final, irreversible parting between them. Yet, for the first time, he truly hoped she wouldn't fail.
Upon reaching the surgery doors, Fati stopped the nurse and said in a commanding tone
- I need a fever reducer and a painkiller. Give them to my husband, Jaguar, right now, before his fever spikes again.
The nurse stood frozen in shock; just moments ago, Fati's words were sharp as she called him "Mr. Jaguar," and now she was calling him "my husband." It seemed like a lover's quarrel that had just found an unspoken truce.
The surgery stretched on for hours. Jaguar sat outside, accompanied by his secretary, Dam Dan, who had arrived to support his master in his ordeal. Beads of sweat poured from Jaguar's forehead; the effect of the fever reducer was gradually fading against the ferocity of both the fever and his anxiety. Noticing his master's deteriorating condition, the secretary insisted the hospital provide Jaguar with an IV saline drip to ease his strain. He initially refused with his usual pride, but then he thought of his grandfather who needed him, and of Fati, who would emerge shattered from this battle. He had to stay strong to be there for both of them.
After nearly eight continuous hours of struggle behind closed doors, Fati emerged to deliver the news of the surgery's success. She looked at him, still seated, while the secretary stood up. The IV was still connected to his hand. She said with professional concern,
- You must not see your grandfather now... you are feverish, and it's dangerous for you to be near him. Look at him through the glass, please.
Jaguar said nothing. Instead, he pulled her down to sit on the chair beside him. In a moment where time seemed to stand still, he pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head and whispered deeply,
- Thank you.