The CEO's Contractual Wife

Chapter 38

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.”

promised, heading toward

Nick turned to me. “You should call your boyfriend. Let him know you might

Alexander. “Already did. He’s arranging for Dad to see

up. “Seriously? That’s… actually really decent of

can be decent,” I said, surprising myself with

1/3

me. “You really like this guy,

away, uncomfortable with the question.

“Love usually is.”

by a nurse approaching us. “Morgan family? Dr. Weaver will be with

exchanged glances. This must be

“Our brother just went to get food. Should we

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

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

heard anything?” she asked

I

door opened, and a tall man with salt–and–pepper hair entered. He wore a

“I’m Dr. Weaver. I’ve been

Mom said. “Our youngest, Ethan, will be

us, then took a seat across the table. “I’ve reviewed your husband’s

Mom’s hand tighten in

disease,” Dr. Weaver continued. “Three of his major arteries are significantly blocked. We’re looking at

her voice remarkably

don’t want to wait.

I repeated, my heart

high risk for another, potentially fatal

a paper bag that smelled of fresh bread and deli meat. He froze

he

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