His Illness Was A Weapon

Carte

in my current state, a dull ache thrumming in my skull from hitting the marble floor, my body instin

ng his distance. His gaze flickered over me, devoid of warmth, before settling on the untouched sheets. Hi

s voice flat, formal. It wasn't con

rma's choking face. And the searing realization that had followed: my own mind, once a sanctuary of logic and empathy, had become a weapon. I was a doctor, trained to

through my thoughts. He didn' t wait for my response. "They' ve mad

ut my mother's treatment?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. He funded that hospital. Her ca

liability, Alyssa. A danger to yourself and to others. Especially to my family.

ice. "What do you want?" I a

putation. So, here's what's going to happen." He paused, letting the words hang in the air, a sword above my head. "You will resign from you

take the blame for the childlessness between us, when it was his patho

I asked, my

s pregnancy. You will show support, even joy. You will help us raise our son. After all,

ne I had lost, the one he had never acknowledged, screamed in my memory. He wanted me to become the glorified nanny, the infertile, mentally

tand. "I won't. I'll divorce you. I'll take a quarter

yssa. Her experimental drugs. Her top-tier specialists. All funded by the York family foundation. If you refuse, if you cause any more trouble, that funding wi

ndent entirely on his family' s immense wealth and influence. He knew my

ked out, tears finall

even think about running to Blaise or my parents. I've already ensured they're out of c

mbled completely. My mother. Her frail smile, her unwavering love. H

e, heavier than any physical blow. "I'll do it," I whispered, th

is eyes. "Good. The press conferen

onster. I had spent my life as a healer, someone who took control of shattered minds. Now, my own mind was shattering, and I was utterly, horrifyingly powerless. Tomorrow,