The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 476

Once secure in Petty's arms, the wailing toddler instinctively grabbed handfuls of her sterile gown. His cries gradually tapered off, and he nuzzled his feverish little face into her chest, letting out tiny, exhausted hiccups.

Franco froze in his tracks, a complex, glimmering emotion surging in his dark eyes as he watched them.

The medical staff in the ICU were equally stunned. When the doors first opened, they hadn't realized who Franco had brought in. It wasn't until they saw the face behind the protective visor that they recognized Petty.

Her sudden appearance caught everyone off guard. After keeping the secret for so long, the team had assumed Mr. White wouldn't reveal the truth about Abacus until after the bone marrow transplant was deemed a complete success. After all, compared to the year they had already endured, a month or two more of secrecy was a small price to pay for certainty.

But taking one look at Petty's devastated state, the staff quickly realized something drastic must have happened—something so out of control that it forced Mr. White's hand. As for Abacus eagerly reaching out for Petty, none of the medical staff were particularly surprised. Maternal instinct was a powerful, undeniable force.

Petty was entirely consumed by the little boy in her arms, oblivious to the stares of the room. But she was severely exhausted. The adrenaline that had carried her down the hall was fading fast. As she swayed on her feet, clutching the baby, a strong arm instantly banded around her waist. Franco braced his broad chest against her back, anchoring her firmly.

"Let's sit down, sweetheart," he murmured. With one arm supporting her waist and his free hand gently cupping Abacus's head, Franco kept his gaze locked on Petty's tear-streaked face. His grip on her tightened protectively.

Petty bit her trembling lip, nodding through her silent tears. She let Franco guide her to the edge of the baby's specialized crib, and the medical team wordlessly stepped back to give them space.

The medical staff had only ever witnessed Mr. White's patience when he was coaxing Abacus. They had never seen him direct this level of devastating tenderness toward his wife.

Lulled by his gentle coaxing, Petty's panic slowly ebbed. She relaxed her vice-like grip just enough to let Franco shift Abacus into a more comfortable reclining position in the crook of her arm. Now the baby could look up at her easily—and she could take in every detail of him.

As their eyes locked, Petty marveled at the tiny boy in her arms. He had her eyes and brow, but his nose and mouth were a carbon copy of Franco's. He was her miracle, her second chance.

He was so unimaginably small and fragile. Despite being over a year old, he barely looked the size of a six-month-old infant. The IV line taped to his delicate hand and the faded bruises speckling his feet from countless needle pricks were a glaring testament to the pain he had endured.