The CEO's Contractual Wife

Chapter 38

Olivia

Ethan arrived around noon, his face flushed and hair slightly disheveled. It was clear he had driven straight from his apartment the moment Nick’s call had come through, barely giving himself a moment to catch his breath.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, dropping his backpack by the waiting room chairs. “Traffic was insane, and my phone died halfway

here.”

I stood up, wrapping my arms around him in a tight embrace. “You’re here now, and that’s all that matters,” I whispered, feeling a slight sense of relief wash over me as I held onto him.

“How is he?” Ethan asked, pulling back to look at me.

“Stable,” Nick answered from his chair. “They’re running tests. Should know more soon.”

Ethan nodded, then seemed to notice my appearance for the first time. “You look like hell, Liv.”

“Thanks,” I said dryly. “That’s exactly what every woman wants to hear.”

“I just meant—”

“I know what you meant,” I interrupted, smiling to soften my words. “I’ve been here since six this morning.”

“Have you eaten anything?” Ethan asked, always the one to worry about practical matters despite being the youngest.

I shook my head. “Not hungry.”

“Well, I am,” Nick announced, standing up and stretching. “Cafeteria run. Who’s in?”

“God, no,” Ethan grimaced. “Hospital food is worse than my dining hall. There’s a deli across the street. I’ll go grab sandwiches.”

“My hero,” I said,-placing a hand over my heart dramatically.

Ethan grinned. “Turkey on wheat for you?”

me so

“Nick? The usual?”

Nick nodded. “Extra pickles.”

in twenty,” Ethan promised, heading toward

“You should call your boyfriend.

the word ‘boyfriend. It felt wrong applied to Alexander. “Already did. He’s

“Seriously? That’s… actually really

surprising myself with how

1/3

me. “You really like this guy, don’t

looked away, uncomfortable with the question. “It’s

“Love usually is.”

saved from responding by a nurse approaching us. “Morgan family? Dr. Weaver will be with you shortly to discuss David Morgan’s

glances. This must be the cardiologist Alexander

you,” I said to the nurse. “Our brother just went to get food. Should we wait for

consultation room,” she said, gesturing down the hall. “Your brother can join

her to a room with a round table and several chairs. Mom was already

you heard anything?” she asked as we

I explained, sitting beside her and taking her

and a tall man with salt–and–pepper hair entered. He wore a pristine white coat with “Dr. Marcus Weaver, Chief of Cardiology” embroidered on

my mother’s hand. “I’m Dr. Weaver. I’ve

Nicholas and Olivia,” Mom said. “Our youngest, Ethan, will

at us, then took a seat across the table. “I’ve reviewed your husband’s test results and consulted with his primary physician. The

felt Mom’s hand tighten

“Three of his

asked, her voice

for this afternoon,” Dr. Weaver replied. “I don’t want to

afternoon?” I repeated, my heart racing.

firmly. “Your father is at high risk for another, potentially fatal heart attack

walked in, carrying a paper bag that smelled of fresh

did I miss?” he asked, his voice