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

“Nick? The usual?”

Nick nodded. “Extra pickles.”

promised, heading

me. “You should call your boyfriend. Let him know you

winced at the word ‘boyfriend. It felt wrong applied to Alexander. “Already did.

“Seriously? That’s…

be decent,” I said, surprising

1/3

said, studying me. “You really

looked away, uncomfortable with

“Love usually is.”

“Morgan family? Dr. Weaver will be with you shortly

I exchanged glances. This must be the cardiologist

I said to the nurse. “Our brother just

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

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

anything?” she asked as

to talk to us,” I explained, sitting beside her and taking her

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

hand. “I’m Dr. Weaver. I’ve been reviewing

Olivia,” Mom said. “Our youngest, Ethan,

across the table. “I’ve reviewed your husband’s test results and consulted with his primary physician. The situation is

felt Mom’s hand tighten

husband has severe coronary artery disease,” Dr. Weaver continued. “Three of his major arteries are significantly blocked. We’re looking at triple bypass

Mom asked, her voice remarkably

don’t want to wait. The

afternoon?” I repeated, my heart

said firmly. “Your father is at high risk for another,

a paper bag that smelled of

he asked,