Chapter 3

Cara dragged her weary steps back to the place she had called "home" for eight years. The moment she pushed open the living room door, she saw Selina draped languidly against Lincoln, her small frame melting into his. Tears streaked Selina's delicate face, evidence of a recent cry. Lincoln, ever the doctor, was soothing her in a soft, professional tone. "There, there, emotional stability is crucial for recovery." Selina leaned into his chest, her voice dripping with sweetness. "Lincoln, you're the best! Better than any doctor in the world!" Cara stood silently, watching the husband she had once loved deeply hold his junior apprentice in his arms. The sight didn't sting anymore; she was beyond heartbreak. Lincoln noticed her presence and turned his head, his voice shifting into a detached, professional register. "Cara, you're back. How's your father doing?" A bitter laugh rose in her throat. The very man who had ordered his staff to cut off her father’s life support now had the audacity to feign concern. She spared Selina a glance. "Thanks to you, he's still alive. For now." Lincoln's brows furrowed slightly, his tone hardening. "Cara, watch your language. As the family member of a doctor, you should approach situations more rationally." This man, who had taken her father to the brink of death? Who was he talking to? Their eyes locked, tension thick in the air. Selina tugged at Lincoln's sleeve with an innocent expression, her voice soft and trembling. "Dr. Walford, Cara is so upset, is it because of me?" Cara's pupils constricted. "Dr. Walford?" That used to be their private way of addressing each other. Now, "Dr. Walford" was still Lincoln—but the woman beside him had changed. What a cruel irony. Lincoln either failed to notice Cara's reaction or chose to ignore it, his rationality as a doctor allowing him to sidestep her emotions entirely. Turning back to Selina, he spoke in a gentle, patient tone, as though addressing a fragile patient. "Don't overthink it. What you need most right now is rest." Selina pouted, her voice sweet and coy. "Then can you stay with me while I'm in the hospital? I don't trust the nurses; they're not as good as you, Lincoln." In the hospital? Cara lowered her gaze. It seemed Lincoln, after securing Selina's consent for organ donation, had wasted no time arranging her surgery. Lincoln appeared deep in thought for a moment before calling out to Cara, who had reached the foot of the stairs. "Cara." He rose and approached her, his tone calm and measured. "There's something I need your cooperation with." She had already placed one foot on the stairs and didn’t bother turning around. "Let me guess—another signature? What is it this time? A divorce agreement? Or do you need one of my organs for your patient?" Lincoln remained composed, though a flicker of sternness crossed his eyes—the kind only doctors seemed to possess. "Cara, mind your words. This is standard medical protocol." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "My father was just resuscitated. What sort of attitude were you expecting from me?" "Lincoln, I haven’t slept for over 24 hours. All I want is to go upstairs and rest." He reached out and gently touched her arm, his voice soothing. "This is your home, Cara. You’re free to rest anytime. But—" He gestured toward Selina, who was looking at them with wide, innocent eyes. "Selina needs hospitalization and care. You have experience with blood disorder patients. From a medical perspective, you're the most suitable person to look after her." Cara let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Lincoln, your rationality is terrifying. My father is in the hospital too! If I’m taking care of her, who’s going to take care of him?" His grip on her arm tightened slightly, though his tone remained calm. "Cara, from the standpoint of medical resource allocation, this arrangement makes the most sense." Staring into his composed eyes, she lowered her gaze. "Fine. I’ll take care of her." He released her arm, his voice softening slightly. "Thank you for your understanding and cooperation." The thought of being forced to care for her husband’s mistress in the hospital—what a scandal it would make in Anderelo. But Cara no longer cared about gossip, nor did she have the energy to dwell on it. Selina’s first day in the hospital showed Cara exactly why no caregiver wanted to attend to her. She complained that the room was too plain and summoned a renovation crew to redecorate it with pink elements. Claiming the hospital bed was too narrow, she had a three-meter-wide round bed brought in instead. "Is this water even drinkable? I only drink Evian!" "What kind of disgusting food is this? I want Japanese cuisine!" The hospital’s staff—doctors and nurses alike—grumbled under their breath. "Is she here to recover or to vacation?" But Selina, wielding the authority of Lincoln’s position as hospital director, acted like she owned the place. When a nurse accidentally applied a bit too much pressure while changing her IV, Selina slapped her across the face without hesitation. When Cara tried to intervene and reason with her, Selina dissolved into tears, immediately calling Lincoln to complain. "You said I was the one who needed care, but it’s all lies!" On the phone, Lincoln once again used his soothing "doctor-to-patient" tone to calm her down. Moments later, Cara’s phone buzzed. "Selina’s a patient," Lincoln said, his voice steady. "From a medical perspective, you need to be more accommodating of her emotional fluctuations." Patient? Cara wanted to ask him: how could someone so full of life—someone who had turned the entire hospital upside down—possibly be the "critical" patient he claimed she was?