Chapter 6: Acceptance and Denial

WILSON'S ROOM 

Wilson sat on the edge of her massive bed, staring at the baby monitor on the nightstand. Her son. The words still felt unreal.

She had spent her entire life making precise, calculated decisions. She didn't make reckless choices. She didn't act on impulse. And yet, in a single moment—standing in that ER, looking into the dying woman's eyes—she had said yes.

Now, she has a son. And she had to tell her family.

She ran a hand through her shoulder length dreads, exhaling sharply. How were they going to react?

Her mother had always been the strongest woman she knew. Raising four kids alone, making ends meet despite the odds. And she never wanted that single mother life for any of her girls. At least the difference with her is, she has money and she's powerful in the society. Her siblings—God, they were going to tease her to death. Wilson, the composed, respected surgeon, suddenly a mother overnight?

And then, there was her father.

Dr. Wilson Stephen—the man who had chosen her, just as she had chosen this baby. He would understand, wouldn't he?

She picked up her phone and tapped on his contact. Dad.

The screen rang twice before he answered, his face filling the screen. Even at home, he looked every bit the composed, powerful surgeon he was—sharp blue eyes, neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard, posture always perfect.

"Ellah," he greeted, eyes scanning her face immediately. "You look… exhausted."

She huffed a quiet laugh. "Long day dad."

Then, before she could pause, she turned the camera, angling it toward the crib.

Dr. Wilson Stephen's eyes widened slightly. He leaned forward. "Ellah…" His voice was softer now. "Is that—?"

She nodded, throat tightening. "My son, dad."

For a moment, he said nothing. Just stared at the tiny sleeping form. Then, a slow, knowing smile crossed his face.

"You took him in? cus I know he aren't yours"

"Yes dad, yes I did ."

A heavy silence settled between them. And then, in the calmest, most certain voice, he said:

"I don't know why but i want you to know, You made the right choice."

Wilson exhaled, something inside her unclenching.

Then—her father suddenly turned away from the screen, calling out, "Everyone, come here. Now."

Within seconds, her mother's face appeared beside him. Then her siblings—her younger brother, and her two younger sisters, all crowding into view.

"What's going on?" her mother asked, then paused, eyes locking onto the crib. Silence.

Then, her mother gasped. "Ellah. Is that a—?"

"A baby?" her sister exclaimed. "Did you—? Oh my god, did you secretly get pregnant?"

Wilson groaned. "Of course not."

"Are you sure? Because that is a whole child, and last I checked, babies don't just fall from the sky."

Her younger brother leaned in, squinting at the screen. "Wait. Is that your kid? Like, your actual kid?"

Wilson sighed. "Yes." Chaos erupted.

Her mother covered her mouth, eyes glassy. Her sisters started talking over each other. Her brother just gaped at her like she had lost her mind.

Wilson let them react. Let them absorb it. And then, when the noise finally settled, her father spoke again.

"When can we see him?"

Her mother nodded eagerly. "We're coming. Tomorrow."

Wilson's eyes widened. "Wait, already?"

"Of course," her mother said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "My daughter has a son now, she's responsible for another human being. Do you really think we'd wait?"

Wilson swallowed, a slow warmth spreading in her chest.

She wasn't alone in this. She never had been.

"Alright," she murmured. "Tomorrow."

And for the first time since the baby had been placed in her arms, she felt at peace.

Stella shifted slightly in the hospital bed, wincing as a dull ache spread through her body. She had been through surgery before, but this… this was different. The pain was deeper, heavier, as if her body was reminding her just how close she had come to not making it.

Her eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. Morning.

And still, no sign of Dr. Wilson.

Her mind replayed last night—hazy memories of waking up, her body sluggish from the still anesthesia that was lingering in her body. She had seen someone standing by her bed. A figure—tall, broad-shouldered, familiar.

She was almost certain it had been Wilson.

But when she had blinked, trying to focus, the figure was gone.

And now, as the morning light streamed in, she still wasn't here.

Stella swallowed, shifting again. She didn't know why it bothered her so much. Wilson was just her doctor. A surgeon. The one who had saved her life.

But that wasn't entirely true, was it?

Wilson wasn't just anyone.

There was something about her. The way she carried herself—so composed, so unreadable. The way the nurses moved around her, half in awe, half in fear.

That moment in the ER. The way Wilson had looked at her.

Like she had seen a ghost. She couldn't shake that look.

Taking a slow breath, Stella turned to the nurse adjusting her IV.

"Hey," she murmured, voice still weak. "Dr. Wilson. Where is she?"

The nurse paused, blinking.

"Dr. Wilson?"

Stella nodded. "She was the one who operated on me, right?"

"Yes, Dr. Wilson was in charge of your surgery."

"So where is she?" Stella asked, trying to sound casual. "I haven't seen her since last night."

The nurse hesitated.

"Dr. Wilson had… a lot to deal with last night," she said carefully.

Something about the way she said it made Stella frown. "Like what?"

The nurse hesitated again. Then, as if remembering something, she straightened. "She'll check on you soon, don't worry."

But Stella did worry.

Something in her gut told her that whatever had kept Wilson away last night…

It was something big. How can a doctor abandon her patient? She thought almost loud.

Stella sighed, staring at the ceiling, frustrated with herself.

Why did she care so much?

It wasn't like Wilson owed her anything. She was just a doctor. A surgeon who had done her job. Saved her life. That was it.

And yet… something about her absence bothered Stella more than it should.

She had expected to see her this morning, at least for a quick check-in. Wasn't that how it worked? A patient's primary doctor usually checked on them after surgery.

But Wilson was nowhere to be found.

Stella turned her head, staring at the empty doorway, irritation curling in her chest.

Why are you acting like this? she scolded herself. Why does it even matter?

But the more she tried to push it away, the more her mind kept circling back to Wilson.

She remembered high school—how she had always felt eyes on her, only to turn and find Wilson looking. Not in a creepy way. Not in an obvious way. Just… there. Watching. Her friends had told her Wilson was a lesbian and she didn't want to have anything to do with that. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to find out she was a friend to a lesbian, especially not her parents, they would kill her.

But now, she couldn't ignore the strange, heavy pull in her chest.

Who is she really, is she really into girls?

Why did it feel like she had been important all along, and Stella had just been too blind to notice?

She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. Maybe it was just the medication messing with her emotions.

Or maybe…

No. She wasn't even going to entertain that thought.

Instead, she turned to the nurse again.

"You sure Dr. Wilson is coming?" she asked, trying to sound indifferent.

The nurse smiled, adjusting her blanket. "She's a very busy woman. But she'll check on you when she can."

That didn't satisfy Stella at all.

She wanted to know where Wilson was. What had kept her away.

And why—despite barely knowing her—Stella couldn't stop thinking about her.