Take My Breath Away

Hartwell rolled his eyes at Blair. "That's because I've never been laid up in the hospital like you."

Blair retorted, "Humph! It is what it is."

Hartwell frowned. "How'd it happen, anyway? Wasn't Wesley supposed to be protecting you?"

"Nothing he could have done. Someone handed me a micro-SD card. Some guys were after it. They knew Wesley was in the hospital, so they figured they could do what they wanted." Blair never blamed Wesley for what happened. In fact, she was grateful to him—he saved her again.

She still remembered how, surrounded by a dozen armed gangsters, Wesley had insisted the leader carry her out. And the man walked into an ambush set up by the soldier.

"So, you're defending him now? I can't say anything bad about him? Let me remind you, young lady, you're not dating him. He won't even admit you're his girlfriend." Hartwell got mad every time he thought of it.

Blair shrugged. "Not his fault either. I just have to be more persistent."

"Stop defending him! Wise up! There are so many fish in the sea. Why him? Can't you live without him?" Hartwell was deeply disappointed.

Sensing his anger, Joslyn wasn't happy. She glared at him. "Hartwell! What is wrong with you? Blair is hurt. Quit stressing her out."

Hartwell made no retorts.

Blair touched Joslyn's hand and said quietly, "It's okay. I know he means well. You should chill too. Stress is bad for the baby."

"I'm not mad. I guess I was pretty easy to date, so he doesn't know what it's like. I should have played hard to get. Then he'd have a better idea of what you're going through. He wouldn't talk to you like that." Joslyn rolled her eyes at Hartwell.

Hartwell didn't say a word.

Blair was amused by Joslyn's reactions. "Pah! You were so infatuated with him. Someone was so excited after they were asked out that they couldn't get to sleep. I wonder who that was."

Joslyn blushed. She rolled her eyes at Blair and chastised, "Whose side are you on? Keep going on like that, I'll stop feeding you."

"I'm sorry, Mommy Joslyn. I'm hungry. Feed me, please."

"Mommy Joslyn? That's it. Starve for all I care."

"What? Don't. I was wrong. Come on, Mrs. Ji, my sweet dear cousin-in-law. You're the best."

"Humph! That's better."

Listening to the two women banter back and forth, Hartwell smiled.

In the afternoon, Cecelia's plane touched down in the city. Her heart ached when she saw Blair's hands and feet all bandaged. "You poor thing, it must hurt a lot. Wesley was too kind to those thugs."

Blair smiled and comforted her, "It's fine, Aunt Cecelia. You know Wesley kicked their asses and then tossed 'em in jail."

But Cecelia wasn't done. "Look at you. You're so thin. What was Wesley thinking? I'm calling him right now to give him a piece of my mind."

Unwilling to let Wesley take the blame, Blair explained at once, "Hey, calm down. He actually took really good care of me. It's just that I'm still recovering. So's my appetite."

When she heard that, Cecelia immediately called a cook she knew in the city and asked him to make some soup for Blair and bring it right to the hospital.

Then she held Blair's hand and complained, "What's up with you and Wesley? When are you going to ask him out? I want a grandson! Blair, think about me. If— Wait, I probably need to talk to Wesley, huh?"

Blair couldn't agree more.

Cecelia took a while to think, and then asked, "Blair, you like Wesley, right?"

Blair flushed and nodded.

"How much do you like him? Enough to do anything for him?" Cecelia continued.

Blair nodded again. She owed him her life. Doing things for him was the least she could do.

"All right then. I have an idea. It'll bring you and Wesley together. Want to hear it?" Cecelia said.

"Yeah." Then Cecelia told her about her plan.

Afterwards, she added, "What do you think? We can let Niles in on it too."

When she heard what Cecelia had planned, Blair gaped at her. "It's like a soap opera," she commented.

"It doesn't matter. No better time than the present. We have to give it a go."

Blair weighed the matter in her mind. Nothing was more important than being with Wesley. "No problem! I'm on board, Aunt Cecelia," she decided.

That evening, Wesley received a call from his mom. "Boo...hoo..."

"What's wrong, Mom?" Wesley was worried when he heard his mom crying on the phone. Did someone mess with Cecelia? Unlikely. No one had the guts for that. Wesley made sure of it.

"Son, it's about Blair... She... Oh, my God! I can't believe it. Blair... Boo...hoo..." Cecelia sounded devastated.

And it was about Blair. Wesley's heart tightened in a knot. "What happened to her, Mom?" He just called the hospital that afternoon. The doctor told him she was fine.

"The doctor...just told me that... Blair has cancer of the liver. She's....dying...She's such a sweet girl. It's so unfair... Boo...hoo...if Blair dies, what about you? What about me? How do I live?"

Wesley knew that his mom liked Blair a lot. He wondered since when she cared so much. 'How do I live?' What was up with that? After hanging up his mom's phone, he raced to the hospital.

It was already the dead of night by the time he got there. The hospital was very quiet.

Niles had already asked the security guards on duty at the entrance to let him know as soon as they spotted his brother. Once they reported him on Wesley's arrival, Niles rushed to Blair's ward and told her, "Hurry. Get ready. Wesley's here."

Blair put away her phone quickly. Niles helped her into bed, and left the ward stealthily.

When Wesley walked in, he saw Blair in the ward, alone, eyes glassy, staring at the ceiling.

Seeing him, she didn't move. She tried to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. So she pinched herself. A little too hard, though. The floodgates opened immediately. "Wesley..." she sobbed.

Wesley quickened his pace and pulled her into his arms.

Before this, Niles had told her Wesley was very perceptive. It was pretty hard to pull the wool over his eyes.

She figured if she talked too much, she might give it away. Thus, Blair spoke as little as possible, only wailing in his arms.

Wesley glimpsed a medical examination report placed on the table, which read, "Blair Jing, 24, terminal liver cancer."

'Terminal?' Wesley was shocked. He looked at her and asked, "I...I didn't know. Any symptoms?"