Chapter 77
Audrey’s POV
Dr. Bennett pulled out her medical equipment. The familiar scent of antiseptic filled the air – a scent that had become all too familiar these past few months. Her movements were precise, professional, but I could see the concern in her eyes as she glanced up at me.
*I remember asking you to get your stomach checked at the hospital months ago,” she said, “Did you go? What were the results?
The memory of that dinner with William months ago flashed through my mind the moment I’d coughed blood into my napkin, trying to hide it, and Dr. Bennett’s sharp eyes catching everything. Her insistence that I get checked had led to the diagnosis that shattered my world.
I forced a calm smile now, the lie sliding from my lips. “I got checked. Nothing just
Dr. Bennett’s eyes narrowed slightly. Are you sure that’s all?”
She reached for my wrist, clearly intending to have a check. I jerked back instinctively, perhaps too quickly.
Rather than argue further, I lifted the edge of my shirt, redirecting her medical curiosity to where it wouldn’t uncover secrets I wasn’t ready to share. “William asked you to check the injury on my stomach.”
Dr. Bennett’s lips pressed into a thin line, clearly not finished with her questions about my stomach issues. But the moment the fabric revealed the angry purple–black mark spreading across my abdomen, her professional concern overwhelmed her suspicion.
Her latex–gloved hands were gentle as she examined my abdomen, but even the lightest touch sent waves of pain through my body.
“This is severe!” Dr. Bennett leaned in closer, her professional demeanor cracking slightly. “Does this hurt?”
I managed a silent nod, biting my lip against the pain.
She sighed, her breath carrying a weight of frustration. The examination continued in tense silence until she finally straightened. “Fortunately it’s just external bruising. But it’ll be painful for a while.”
Just as I thought we were finished, she knelt to examine my legs. Her sharp intake of breath told me everything I needed to know about how the bruises must look.
“What happened here?” Her voice carried a mix of horror and anger. “Was this from being kicked too?”
‘I was pushed down the stairs this morning.” The words came out weary, resigned.
“By the same person who kicked you?” Her eyes widened as understanding dawned.
Images of this morning’s incident flashed through my mind – the malice in silently.
Las eyes, the sudden shove, the sickening sensation of falling. I nodded
“My god, Dr. Bennett observed, her clinical assessment carrying an undercurrent of disgust. “This isn’t accidental. These are calculated attacks.”
With practiced efficiency, she uncapped a tube of prescription–strength ointment, her touch surprisingly gentle as she applied it to the angry bruises mapping my legs and abdomen. The relief was immediate but fleeting – like everything else in my life these days.
When she finished, she clicked her pen and began making detailed notes on her clipboard. My eyes caught the medical terminology she was recording.
“Dr. Bennett.” My hand shot out before I could reconsider, fingers closing around her wrist. Her expression. About my condition…”
II shifted my gaze toward the door, lowering my voice. “Could you… not tell William? He’s aged, I don
She pushed her glasses up her nose, fixing me with a penetrating stare. “Tell me exactly what your
stilled as she looked up, surprise. evident in her
Wa
him to worry about me.”
The moment stretched between us like a thread about to snap. Finally, I let out a
long breath
andtion is, and I’ll agree.”
her everything – the diagnosis, the prognosis, the
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Chapter 77
experimental treatment that might or might not buy me a few more months.
“No wonder you insist on divorce, she said softly when I finished. “You’re trying to spare Blake?:
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