Chapter 3 Surprisingly Good Stamina

Life always hit me like a truck just when I thought I could finally breathe. The turning point came on a night of pouring rain. That day, Noah was burning up with a high fever, yet he insisted on going to work. He said there was an inspection from the library's upper management and that he couldn't call in sick. I looked at his flushed, overheated face and snapped at him for the first time, "Noah, are you an idiot? Are you really willing to risk your life for a lousy attendance bonus?" Wrapped in his old coat, he flashed me a weak smile. "It's 100 dollars, Louise. That's enough to buy a month's worth of formula for the baby." He was set on leaving, and I failed to stop him. By afternoon, the rain was coming down even harder. Water started leaking through the ceiling of our house. Although I was eight months pregnant, I shuffled around with a pail, catching the drips. The floor was slick. In the end, I lost my footing and crashed hard onto the ground. Pain shot through me, and the next second, a warm sensation trickled down my thighs. I screamed, drenched in sweat, shaking as I reached for my phone. With trembling fingers, I called Noah. "Hello, Louise. Hello?" His voice came through the line, muffled by the noise, like he was still caught up at work. I muttered through the excruciating pain, "Help me, Noah… I can't… anymore…" "Louise!" he screamed into the phone, panicked. "What's wrong, Louise? Where are you? Hang tight—I'll be right back! Just wait for me!" The call ended swiftly after a symphony of items crashing and falling. I lay on the freezing floor as my vision blurred. Just when I thought I might die in that storm, the door was smashed open. Noah burst in like a drowned rat. The look on his face was savage, almost feral, so unfamiliar it scared me. I couldn't remember how he lifted me. All I remembered was how tight his arms were—it was almost bone-crushing. "Don't sleep just yet, Louise! Louise, wake up!" He ran straight into the rain. The broken old bike was long gone, tossed aside somewhere. He held me and sprinted toward the hospital. Rain lashed his face, and I couldn't tell if it was rain or tears. Pressed against his chest, I heard his heartbeat pounding like timpani, hitting my ears again and again. It was strange—Noah was just a quiet bookworm who lived for his job. Why was his stamina this terrifying? The hospital was at least two miles away. I weighed over 100 pounds, yet he managed to carry me and run steadily without gasping for air. Somehow, the rain seemed to part around him. I couldn't decipher further about the situation. The pain was overwhelming. When we arrived at the hospital, the emergency room nurse stepped forward and took over. "Please wait outside, sir!" The moment the operating room doors closed, I caught Noah's gaze. It was a look I had never seen before—fierce, violent, and drenched in predatory intensity. It was reminiscent of a wild beast whose fury had been awakened. The next second, though, it vanished. In its place was the familiar and timid man I knew so well, red-rimmed eyes making him look as meek and anxious as ever.