My Secret Husband Is My Cold Boss novel Chapter 45

"...What block?"

The topic changed so fast that Wendy couldn't keep up with Sampson's train of thought.

"Oh, the little rabbit hitting the wooden block?"

Wendy turned around and double-clicked an icon on her desktop.

The rabbit popped up, tapping a little wooden block.

Wendy explained, "It's a widget. It doesn't run automatically on startup."

Something suddenly clicked in her mind. Watching the "Merit +1" visual effect, she turned back to Sampson with a sudden flare of annoyance.

She glared at him accusingly. "I just remembered!"

"You didn't tap the block the day we admitted Bed 16!"

What?

Now it was Sampson's turn to be utterly bewildered.

"...How is that my fault?"

Wendy kept staring at him, her expression clearly telegraphing her dissatisfaction.

"Of course it is."

"Where medicine ends, the mystical begins."

"Otherwise, how do you explain the sudden arrival of a critical case on a day when neurosurgery, cardiology, and cardiothoracic surgery—departments that barely have joint consultations a few times a month—all happened to meet?"

Sampson chuckled.

He was completely at a loss for how to argue with her logic.

The last time he'd been hit with an accusation this airtight, he was dealing with Winona.

Working high-intensity shifts every day was exhausting. Thinking of Stanley Sanders's recent advice to show his wife more care...

Sampson looked at Wendy and opened his hands in surrender. "Send the program to my email, then. I'll tap it."

Taking care of his wife's mood was his most basic responsibility as a husband.

He held her gaze.

Wendy tested the waters. "You're on call today. Want to tap it right now?"

She pushed the laptop toward his hand.

Sampson paused.

Then he surrendered.

His long fingers tapped the screen twice.

"Like this?"

From wearing surgical gloves year-round, his hands were pale, the bones and prominent veins stark against his skin.

Having seen the hands of countless surgeons, Wendy had to admit that Sampson's were the most attractive ones she had ever laid eyes on.

"Yep, that's enough."

Sitting this close, the image of their breaths mingling just moments ago flashed back into Wendy's mind.

Seeing Wendy looking exhausted, she hadn't said a word.

She simply stocked the fridge in silence.

By the time Wendy woke up, Kimberly was gone, leaving a meal on the table.

Knowing Wendy might be too busy to check her phone, Kimberly had left a note: *Heat this in the microwave before eating. Throw it out if you leave it overnight; don't eat leftovers.*

Kimberly's birthday was in January.

Wendy glanced at the calendar. It was right after her residency ended.

Holding the note, Wendy figured she should probably go back for Kimberly's birthday anyway.

Nelson Sutton had also dropped by the hospital twice over the past few days.

Wendy hadn't seen him; Sophie had told her about it.

Sophie said, "Both times Nelson came, you were in surgery. He didn't wait around—just asked and left."

"Got it," Wendy nodded absentmindedly.

Then she asked, "No one saw him looking for me, right?"

"Nope."

Sophie waved a hand, reassuring her.

"Don't worry. Everyone's gossiping about Director Sanders this month. Nobody cares about Nelson."

She hadn't heard any gossip about Sampson in the OR lately. Wendy asked, "Gossip about Director Sanders?"