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His Life Hung By My Hands

Chapter 5 

Word Count: 1111    |    Released on: Today at 10:38

years of stress and suppressed emotion. I clutched my abdomen,

ainst the opposite wall of the fire escape, a small bottle of antacids in his hand. He must have followed

s never change, Cassius," I said, my voice flat. "But

, Alana. Take some time off. You're pushing yourself too hard." There was

playing on my lips. "For something far more important than recovering from your family drama." I kept my eyes fixed on the di

ards my hair. I flinched, pulling back just as his fingers brushed my

against the railing, a wistful look in his eyes. "Remember that time in college? You had a fever

hts, the dizzying heat, the sensation of the room spinning. But his memory

ued, a proud smile on his face. "Never one to bac

ut my thoughts were already elsewhere. A gentle buzz vibrated in my pocket. My phone

y lips as I read the text. It was a reminder, a

make it sound like you were there, cheering me on, worried sick." My smile twisted into a bitter sneer. "But you

g away, leaving behind a stark, uncomfortable truth. His eyes, us

he hospital. I needed air. I needed distance. I needed to remind mysel

ically, dodged rounds, and buried myself in paperwork. I was a surgeon, not

comes impossible. A week later, I found myself standing out

g heavily on Cassius's arm. She was still pale, still fragile,

brow furrowing. I glanced at Kori's chart.

e barely audible. "I just... I'm still a little weak. The doctor said it's common after... after such

mine, but I pulled back before she could make c

ngth. "He misses you. He says your room is still the same, waiting for you. He

cusations from the other staff members in the room. They

g over me. The charade was endless, the emotional mani

bitter taste on my tongue. "I'l

before she masked it with a soft, grateful expression.

. The weight of their manipulations pressed down on me. I needed to retrieve some personal items from my old room, th

kin beneath. A small, almost imperceptible mark, a dark bruise against my pale skin, was now visible. It

and calculating, widened, then narrowed into dangerous slits. His gaze fixed

earms bulged, a clear indicator of the rage simmering beneath his carefully c

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