The CEO's Contractual Wife

Chapter 53

Chapter 53

Olivia

He leaned across the console, his face inches from mine. For a heart–stopping moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead, he brushed his lips against my forehead, just as he had the day before.

“Get some rest,” he murmured. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

I nodded, unable to form words with him so close. His cologne wrapped around me, spicy and expensive, making my head. swim.

“Goodnight, Alex,” I managed finally, reaching for the door handle.

“Goodnight, Liv.”

True to his word, Alexander appeared at my door at precisely seven–thirty the next morning, bearing coffee and a bag from my favorite bakery.

“How did you know about Marlowe’s?” I asked, accepting the bag of pastries.

You mentioned it once,” he shrugged, following me into the kitchen. “You said they had the best croissants in LA.”

I blinked, surprised he’d remembered such a trivial detail. “Well, you’re right. They do.”

We ate quickly, then headed to the hospital. The day passed in a blur of activity as Dad was moved from ICU to a regular room. The improvement was immediate and dramatic; his color was better, his voice stronger, and he was fully alert.

There she is,” Dad greeted me when I entered his new room. “My favorite daughter.”

“I’m your only daughter,” I reminded him, kissing his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck,” he admitted. “But a smaller truck than yesterday.”

Weaver visited mid–morning, pleased with Dad’s progress. “Everything looks excellent, Mr. Morgan. Your heart is responding well to the bypasses. If you continue like this,

muttered. “No offense,

it easy for several weeks. No lifting, no driving, no

fretting about his job at the

least six weeks,” Dr. Weaver said firmly. “Your body needs time to heal. You’ll need help

weeks.”

manage. The kids

course we will,” I agreed, already mentally

me with a stern look.

acknowledged. “But he’s

Dad grunted, clearly reserving judgment. “He’s older than

Chapter 53

years,” I said. “It’s not that

“And he’s your boss.”

I don’t report directly to

my face.

Ethan asked. “I think so,” I said

hand. “Just be

know, Dad,” I assured him. “I’m being careful.”

recovery, the medications he’d need to take, and the changes to his diet. I took

spend a few hours with Dad, then head to the office for the afternoon. Carter

my marketing campaigns, grateful for the distraction. The team was supportive,

asked one afternoon

genuinely relieved. “The

smiled. “And how’s

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