Chapter 18
Amelia’s POV
Leyla’s hands suddenly closed over mine, halting my messy attempt at chopping the already mangled onion. Without a word, she pulled me into her arms. The warmth of her hug broke the last bit of control I had left, and I sank into her, my shoulders shaking as the sobs poured out.
“Shhh… it’s okay, Amelia,” she whispered into my hair, rubbing circles on my back. “Cry it all out. Don’t hold it in. I’ve got you.”
Her words only made me cry harder. It wasn’t loud or dramatic, just that painful, broken kind of crying that leaves you gasping in between. She held me tighter, murmuring, “Let it out, sweetheart. You don’t have to be strong with me.”
Slowly, my cries softened into hiccups. Embarrassed, I pulled back and wiped my face with the back of my hand, a sad little chuckle slipping out. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall apart like that.”
Leyla shoved my shoulder lightly. “Oh, please. We’ve seen each other in worse situations. Remember my ugly crying over Kevin in college?”
I cracked a tiny smile. “True.”
Her eyes softened. “So… care to tell me what happened?”
The question made my chest tighten. I shook my head, staring at the half–diced onions through blurry eyes. Just the thought of it was enough to bring the tears back.
Leyla touched my arm. “Hey, it’s me. You can tell me anything.”
I swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper. “I thought time had… I don’t know, faded all of it. All those stupid emotions I had for him. But the moment I saw her, Vikk grab him and kiss him like she owned him… it felt like someone ripped my heart straight out and dropped it into a volcano.” My voice cracked. “It burned, Leyla. God, it burned.”
Her expression softened with pity, but I pressed on, shaking my head. “The truth is… I’m still in love with Edmund. Utterly, foolishly, hopelessly in love with him. And I hate myself for it because-” my throat closed, “–because he’s married. He’s someone else’s husband, and I shouldn’t even be thinking this way. But I can’t stop it. I can’t help it.”
Leyla exhaled, squeezing my hand.
“I don’t think I can do it,” I whispered, shaking my head.
“Do what?” she asked gently, moving toward the fridge. She pulled out two cans of beer, the cool hiss filling the silence.
“Be his personal doctor,” I muttered. “Tomorrow, the moment I get to work, I’ll go to the CFO and tell him to have Angela replace me.”
Leyla groaned dramatically, cracking open her can. “Ugh. I hate that bitch,” she muttered, handing one to me.
I rolled my eyes, tapping mine open. “Tell me about it.”
She took a long gulp, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. “Look, if it were up to me, I’d tell you to think about this twice. He’s the father of your child, Amelia. That alone—”
I cut her off, shaking my head quickly. “No. We’re not having this conversation again, Leyla. Not for the thousandth time. Edmund never wanted kids. You know that. And I refuse to raise Scarlett’s hopes just to have him crush them. Plus, he’s married. Do you honestly think he’d risk a scandal about having an illegitimate child floating around? It would ruin his
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Chapter 18
business.”
PM M
Leyla raised her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, Fine. It’s your call. You know what’s best for you, and I’ll stand by you to
matter what.”
My chest cased just a little, and I smiled faintly at her. “Thank you”
She winked. “Always.” Then, with a mischievous grin, she asked, “So… want to call your mom to watch Scarlet? We erald have a sleepover. Just like old times.”
I snorted into my beer. “Old times? Bitch, you sleep over at my house all the time.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, smartass. But I mean an actual girls‘ night. Movies, wine, terrible face masks that smell like glue. What do you say?”
I thought about it for a moment before shaking my head. “Nah. I’ve got an early shift tomorrow. But weekend?”
“Deal.”
“Good.” I clapped my hands together, setting the can down. “Now let’s get back to cooking, because Lord knows I’m not leaving here until I eat.”
Leyla chuckled, handing me another onion like the evil best friend she was. “Then start chopping, chef.
I groaned but picked up the knife anyway, muttering, “I’m blaming you if I go blind from all this crying.”
“Blame the onions,” she teased, and just like that, the heaviness in my chest eased a little more.
*****
Just like I’d promised myself, the moment I finished my rounds, I headed straight to the chief’s office. My nerves were strung so tight I could almost hear them humming, but I forced myself to knock anyway.
“Come in,” came his faint voice.
I pushed the door open, stepping inside.
“Oh, Dr. Gracia.” He glanced up briefly before his eyes darted back to his laptop. His fingers didn’t even pause on the keyboard. “How may I help you?”
I clasped my hands together, willing myself not to fidget. “I came to talk to you about being Mr. Montgomery’s personal doctor.”
He chuckled lightly without looking up. “Ah, yes. I forgot to mention, you won’t be getting extra pay for that. But if he offers you bonus stipends, those are all yours.” He let out a laugh, clearly amused by himself.
I forced a polite smile. “Actually, that’s not the reason I came.”
That finally made him pause. He leaned back in his chair, brows raised. “Oh? Then what’s the issue?”
“Well, it is concerning him, but not in the way you mentioned.” I straightened my shoulders. “I think it would be in the best interest of both myself and the hospital to assign someone else to his care.”
His frown deepened. “What?”
“I believe Dr. Angela would be a more suitable replacement,” I repeated, trying to keep my voice even.
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Chapter 18
He blinked at me, then tilted his head as if I’d grown two heads. “That’s it?”
“Yes, sir
He closed his laptop with a snap, fixing me with a look that told me he thought the conversation was over before it had even begun. I’m sorry, doctor, but that won’t be possible at all. Mr. Montgomery specifically requested you. So unless you’re resigning from this hospital, you’ll continue in that role.” His tone was dismissive, almost casual. “Please return to your duties. And make sure you check on your special patient twice a week.”
I clenched my jaw. “Yes, but”
“This isn’t up for discussion, Dr. Gracia.” His eyes had already returned to his screen, fingers resurning their steady rhythm across the keys.
Heat rose in my chest, anger, frustration, the urge to scream. I wanted to curse him, throw something, anything to make him understand. But I swallowed it down. Losing my temper here wouldn’t help.
Instead, I forced myself to nod and turn toward the door. My hand tightened on the handle, knuckles whitening as I tried not to slam it shut behind me.
Fine. If he wouldn’t listen, I’d make my own rules. Tuesdays and Fridays, those so–called “check–in days” would become Scarlett and family time. My days. My peace.
And when Edmund finally grew tired of my absence, when the inconvenience became too much for him to tolerate, he would march himself into this very office and demand a replacement.
My lips curved into a A small smile curved at the thought. Let him be the one to ask.__
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
