A Marriage Meant for Kai

Chapter Three-MIAN

By the time my shift started, I already knew it was going to be a long day.

The emergency department was crowded.

Patients were everywhere.

Nurses were moving quickly from one room to another, monitors were beeping continuously, phones were ringing, and somewhere in the background, a child was crying because he didn’t want to take his medication.

It was normal.

Chaotic, exhausting, and completely normal.

I had been working for almost six hours when a nurse hurried toward me.

“Doctor Mian.”

I looked up from the chart in my hands.

“Yes?”

“We have a pediatric patient coming into emergency.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“High fever.”

I immediately put the chart down.

“How high?”

“Forty point two.”

My expression changed.

“Forty point two?”

She nodded.

“They’ve already tried to bring it down at home. The fever keeps coming back.”

“Let’s get him into a room.”

I followed her immediately.

The moment I stepped inside the emergency bay, I saw him.

A little boy.

He was tiny.

Too tiny for the amount of fear that immediately settled in my chest.

He was lying on the bed, his cheeks bright red, his dark hair damp with sweat. His small body trembled beneath the thin hospital blanket.

An IV had already been inserted into his hand.

A nurse was applying a cool compress to his forehead.

Another nurse was checking his vitals.

And standing beside the bed was a woman who looked exhausted.

“What’s his name?”

“Kai,” she answered immediately.

“Kai.”

I looked at the boy again.

Something strange happened.

I felt connected to him.

I didn’t know why.

I had never seen him before.

I didn’t know his family.

I didn’t know anything about him.

Yet something about the little boy tugged at me.

It was an instinct.

A strange, almost protective feeling.

I stepped closer.

“Hey, Kai.”

He didn’t respond.

His eyes remained closed.

I placed the back of my hand against his forehead.

He was burning.

“Temperature?”

“Forty point one now.”

“Still too high.”

I looked at the chart.

“What have you given him?”

The nurse listed the medications.

“Cooling measures?”

“Already started.”

“Fluids?”

“Running.”

I nodded.

“Good. Keep monitoring him.”

I looked at the nanny.

“When did the fever start?”

“Earlier today.”

“Any vomiting?”

“No.”

“Diarrhea?”

“No.”

“Cough?”

“A little.”

“Any seizures?”

“No.”

I nodded.

“Okay.”

I turned back toward Kai.

His little fingers were curled around the blanket.

I didn’t know what it was about him.

Maybe it was the fact that he looked so small.

Maybe it was the fact that he was alone.

Maybe it was simply the way my heart reacted when I looked at him.

Whatever it was, I couldn’t walk away.

So I stayed.

⸻

Time passed slowly.

The medication was working, but not as quickly as I wanted.

Kai remained asleep.

His fever was still dangerously high.

I stood beside his bed, monitoring him carefully.

The nanny sat quietly in the corner.

She looked exhausted.

I was about to ask her another question when Kai suddenly moved.

His brows pulled together.

His little face twisted in discomfort.

Then he whispered.

“Daddy…”

I looked down.

His voice was barely audible.

“Daddy…”

The nanny immediately looked up.

Kai’s fingers tightened around the blanket.

“Please don’t leave me.”

My heart stopped.

I looked at the nanny.

She looked away.

Kai whimpered again.

“Daddy, please.”

I stepped closer.

He was still asleep.

His body was burning with fever, but his voice was filled with something far more painful than physical discomfort.

“I’ll be good.”

My chest tightened.

“I promise.”

A tear slipped down his cheek.

“Don’t go to another meeting.”

I froze.

“Please don’t leave me.”

His voice became smaller.

“I’ll be really good.”

He swallowed.

“I’ll be quiet.”

Another tear rolled down his cheek.

“Just don’t go.”

I didn’t know what to say.

I had treated frightened children before.

But this wasn’t simply fear.

This was abandonment.

Or at least, the fear of it.

I gently wiped his cheek.

“You’re okay,” I whispered.

He couldn’t hear me.

“Daddy’s going to come back.”

I wasn’t sure why I said it.

Maybe because some part of me wanted to believe it too.

I looked at the nanny.

She was crying silently.

I straightened.

“Can we talk outside?”

She nodded.

We left the room quietly.

The door closed behind us.

I turned toward her.

“What is happening?”

She looked confused.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought there might be something wrong at home.”

Her eyes widened.

“No.”

She shook her head immediately.

“Mr. Sullivan would never hurt Kai.”

“Sullivan?”

“His father.”

I nodded.

“Then why is he so afraid of his father leaving?”

The nanny sighed.

“Because he misses him.”

“Misses him?”

“Very much.”

She looked toward the room.

“Kai loves his father.”

I frowned.

“But his father doesn’t spend much time with him?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“His father works constantly.”

I stared at her.

“How constantly?”

“Almost all the time.”

She gave a tired laugh.

“Meetings. Business trips. Phone calls. Conferences. He leaves early. He comes home late.”

“Does Kai see him?”

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“Sometimes Kai is already asleep when he comes home.”

I looked through the glass panel.

Kai was still lying there.

Five years old.

And already afraid that the person he loved would leave him.

“What about his mother?”

The nanny’s expression changed.

“His mother died.”

My chest tightened.

“When?”

“When Kai was born.”

I looked back at the room.

“She died giving birth to him?”

The nanny nodded.

“So he doesn’t have a mother.”

“No.”

“And his father is always working.”

“Yes.”

I ran a hand through my hair.

“Then who does he have?”

The nanny didn’t answer immediately.

“Me.”

Her voice was quiet.

“I’m the one who’s usually here.”

I looked at her.

“But you’re leaving.”

She looked surprised.

“How did you know?”

“You said you’re usually here.”

She sighed.

“I’m thinking about resigning.”

“Why?”

“Because I have a family too.”

I nodded slowly.

“I have two children.”

She looked tired.

“My children need me. I can’t always stay here overnight because Mr. Sullivan has another meeting or doesn’t come home.”

“So you’re working overtime?”

“Constantly.”

She looked down at her hands.

“I love Kai. He’s a wonderful child. But this job is demanding. I was hired to be his nanny, not to become his mother.”

I didn’t blame her.

She shouldn’t have to become his mother.

But the child shouldn’t have to live without someone either.

“Does his father know you’re considering leaving?”

“I told him.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he’d handle it.”

I frowned.

“And?”

She shook her head.

“Nothing changed.”

I looked through the glass again.

Something about that bothered me.

More than it should have.

Maybe because I understood the feeling.

Having a parent who was physically there but emotionally somewhere else.

My father had never abandoned me.

But sometimes, I wondered whether emotional distance could hurt just as badly.

I knew what it felt like to desperately want your father’s attention.

To want him to look at you and say he was proud.

To accomplish something extraordinary and still feel like it wasn’t enough.

And Kai…

Kai was only five.

He shouldn’t have to beg someone to stay.

⸻

My shift ended hours later.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

I drove home through the quiet streets.

The city was almost empty.

But my mind was loud.

Daddy, please don’t leave me.

I could still hear his voice.

I didn’t understand why it had affected me so deeply.

I’d seen hundreds of children.

I’d treated sick children.

I’d watched families break down in hospital corridors.

I’d seen parents cry.

I’d seen children cry.

But Kai was different.

Something about him had stayed with me.

When I finally reached my apartment, I showered and changed before getting into bed.

I turned off the lights.

Closed my eyes.

And immediately saw Kai.

His tiny body.

His flushed cheeks.

His little hand gripping the blanket.

His voice.

I’ll be good.

I opened my eyes.

I looked at the clock.

2:43 a.m.

I turned onto my side.

Tried to sleep.

Nothing.

3:17.

Still awake.

3:49.

Still awake.

I sighed and sat up.

Why was I thinking about this child?

Why did I care so much?

I didn’t know him.

He wasn’t my responsibility once his shift ended.

But my heart didn’t seem to understand that.

I looked toward the window.

The city lights were beginning to fade as morning approached.

I thought about the nanny.

About her children.

About Kai’s father.

About a little boy who had lost his mother before he could even know her and was now terrified that his father would leave too.

My chest tightened.

“Poor baby.”

I whispered the words into the empty room.

I knew what it was like to grow up wondering why your parent couldn’t love you the way you needed.

I knew what it was like to chase approval.

To wonder what you had to do to finally be enough.

Maybe that was why Kai had gotten under my skin.

Because beneath all the success, beneath my medical degree, beneath the person I had become, there was still a little part of me that understood that little boy.

The part that wanted someone to stay.

Someone to choose me.

Someone to say—

I’m here.

I lay back down.

But sleep still wouldn’t come.

The sun was beginning to rise when I finally closed my eyes.

And even then, the last thing I thought about was Kai.

The little boy in the hospital.

The little boy who had whispered for his father not to leave.

And for some reason I couldn’t explain, I had a feeling that meeting him wasn’t an accident.

I just didn’t know yet how much that little boy was going to change my life.