Chapter 1: Lost his son

Inside a hospital room a man stood by the side of the bed, his gaze filled with concern as he looked down at the sickly 4 years old boy lying there. His frail form was covered with a soft, floral-patterned blanket, and her gentle breathing echoed throughout the room. Tubes and medical equipment surrounded him, a reminder of the battle he was fighting against his failing health.

He brought out his phone and dialed his wife's number, which rang incessantly, but she wasn't picking it up.

"Pick up lucy."

After trying her contact with no avail for a few more minutes, he decided to go home to find any means to gather money for his son's medical bills so treatment could commence, knowing fully well the possibility was zero, he had spent all his life savings just to get the doctors to attend to the boy. He needed to pay at least half of $7000 and where would he get that from?

"I'm sorry daddy can't help you." He could not help but remember how his son landed up in the hospital as the memories kept flowing into his mind, how a car hit his son and ran away. He felt his world shattered.

"Daddy please stay here, don't go anywhere."

The small boy turned his tired eyes towards Ivan and weakly asked, "Why isn't mommy here, dear? I was hoping to see her, daddy. I want to see her." His voice was raspy, tainted with the struggle for each breath.

A bittersweet smile touched Ivan's lips as he gently clasped his wrinkled hand.

"I tried calling her," he said, his voice low. "But she didn't answer. I'll try again."

"Don't worry, John. I'll call Lucy again; she'll be here. She must be caught up with something important," he reassured him, his voice filled with genuine love.

The boy's smile widened, revealing the glimmer of hope she had. "Thank you, daddy, do you think I'm going to die?" John struggled to ask.

"Yes son, yes."

With a nod, Ivan squeezed John's hand gently. "I'd call your mother again."

He stepped out of the ward and quickly dialed Lucy's number, his heart pounding with anticipation. The phone rang, but Lucy didn't pick up. Ivan's brow furrowed. He dialed Lucy's number again, but it went straight to voicemail. He sighed, trying to understand why his wife would not answer his calls in such a situation. 

Ivan knew that lucy hadn't been herself lately after they had a fight, and he hoped that seeing their son might help change things.

After what felt like an eternity, Lucy finally answered the call. Her voice was cold and distant, betraying her indifference. Ivan could sense the tension in her tone.

"What do you want, Ivan? I'm in the middle of a business meeting; please don't disturb me. This business trip is important to me."

"John wants to see you," he said, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Lucy sneered, almost mocking him. "You're lying," she said. "This is just another one of your tactics to make me come back to you, ha! I'll see John when I'm back."

Ivan's face turned red. He could feel the frustration boiling inside him. 

He had tried to make things right with Lucy, but she always seemed to push him away. He could feel his heart racing.

"For God's sake, Lucy," he said, his voice rising. "This is not about us. This is about our son; he's dying; he needs to see you."

"Stop bothering me; I saw John and he was okay, if you want money then I have none, besides I am in Soho I can't come back because you want me to." She said, her voice low. "Get out of my phone."

Ivan's heart sank as Lucy hung up, leaving Ivan standing there, stunned and hurt. It wasn't the first time Lucy had acted this way, and each time it cut deeper into Ivan's heart.

He knew deep down that she would not come and that his boy might not make it and it was all his fault.

He wished he was the greatest doctor of all time, then he would have made sure his son was fine.

"You ain't going to do this, Lucy." After closing his eyes, he opened them and was about to dial her number again.

He could hear the high-pitched, repeating beep. He immediately turned around to see what was happening, and a sudden commotion erupted from the ward. The sound of urgent footsteps and hushed voices filled the air, and Ivan's world seemed to turn upside down.

Fear gripped his heart as he rushed back into the room, only to be met with a flurry of doctors and nurses bustling around the bed. His eyes darted between their concerned faces, searching for answers, but their silence spoke volumes.

"Oh my gosh! F**k!" He cursed, Looking at the monitor, he saw flatlines instead of wave patterns. "He's gone."

The realization struck Ivan with a force he had never experienced before. He couldn't save his son.

Ivan's emotions swirled within him, a whirlwind of grief, regret, "Oh Lucy,"

Three days had passed since Ivan bid his son a heartbreaking farewell. The funeral had come and gone, said goodbye to his son feeling emptier than ever. He stood alone in front of his son's tomb, the cool autumn breeze rustling the leaves around him. The weight of loss hung heavy in the air, but Ivan remained composed, his grief buried inside him.

Ivan's phone rang, shattering the stillness. His hand reached into his pocket and retrieved it, his eyes narrowing as he saw the caller ID: Lucy. Reluctantly, he answered the call, bracing himself for whatever awaited him.

"Lucy," he said, his voice steady.

The voice on the other end was just as icy as he had expected. "Ivan, come to my house by 3 noon don't come earlier than 3pm I'm not back. We need to talk."

"I'd be there." Ivan agreed, his mind already racing with questions. What did Lucy want? Why did she choose this moment, when he was grieving his son's loss, to reach out? He wondered how she would react when she found out that their son was gone.

He ended the call and was about to pocket his phone, only to be greeted by an unexpected sight on its screen.

A news article popped up, accompanied by a photo that sent a jolt of disbelief through Ivan's veins. It was a picture of Lucy, smiling, intimately close to another man, in a fancy restaurant. "Wait this is Westcliff restaurant."

The date on the article matched the day their son had passed away, the same day he had desperately tried to reach her.

"How dare you, Lucy? So this was your important meeting that you went to Soho for? You were in Essex! F**k you Lucy!"