"Usui-Kun, Misaki has entered labour. Make it quick!"
"I'll be there immediately." I worded, ended the call and made a dash to the exit, almost pushing the secretary down in the process.
The driver almost simultaneously started the car.
My mind wavered to our past.
When I had met her.
When I fell for her.
When we stood at the altar.
And when she told me of the news.
A small smile graced my features unknowingly.
And then, it was overcome by something I hadn't experienced.
Something I hadn't reciprocated.
Fear.
Images lashed across my memory like a hard whip.
She was out there.
And I wasn't there by her side.
She was left alone, by me. . .
A jerk shook me from my trance.
It was the car. It got stuck in traffic, and the driver had to apply brakes.
Musing myself, I shot out of the car as I jumped and rushed my way to the direction of the hospital.
Thoughts rushing back to the times when ii left her.
Left her alone and flew off to England.
The thoughts of my girl, shivering alone to the sounds of thunder made me cringe.
And I was far away, and way far from her warmth.
Far away, with her visions in my eyes, in my mind, in my dreams.
I cursed myself for leaving her alone, as I jumped off the bonnet of a car.
The white building came to my sight.
I slowed my pace, yet still darted to the receptionist.
"Misaki Ayuzawa Walker" I almost breathlessly muttered, my voice barely a whisper.
"Operation theatre, third floor, seventh room to the left."
I worded a small thanks and soundlessly made my way as fast as I could.
Dodging wheelchairs, I smiled at a pair of children playing at the side chairs.
After all, I was going to have one, too.
And then it would be my cute daughter, my beautiful wife, and me.
A happy, contended family.
And as I imagined the happy moments we would have together, I had already reached the third floor.
Making a final sprint, I got to the closed doors to see Sakura.
"Usui Kun, I-"
The red light above the operation theatre went off.
I hurried to the doctor, but the nurse preceding her handed me a little bundle of life with black, ruffly hair. My lips curved up in a smile.
"Doctor, may I see Misa?" I turned to the person with a white suit of responsibility cloaked on her.
However, my face drained of its colour when she looked down and shook her head.
"I am sorry, Mr. Walker . . ."
My face slightly turned toward the operation theatre.
"May I . . ." My voice came out as a rasp.
She slowly nodded, her eyes never meeting mine.
I walked to the door of doom, my steps ghostly, shorter with each step, the bundle of life, the proof of our love, in my arms.
And I slowly, unwillingly slid off the cloth, as white as a bridal veil, off her face.
She was smiling.
And I wept.