The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 237

Outside the operating room, Claire paced anxiously, unable to sit still, with Julian staying faithfully by her side.

Jared dropped by several times to check in. Eventually, she couldn't help but feign casually, "Where is Miles?"

"Him?" Jared peeked around the corner and caught Miles's warning glare. He swallowed whatever he was about to say. "Probably doing consultations."

Claire didn't push the matter further.

It was Monday, not his usual day for out-patient consultations.

Back when she was pursuing him, she had run through this hospital and his office countless times. She knew his schedule perfectly.

Four hours later, the OR doors slowly slid open.

Dr. Thorne walked out with a relaxed smile. "The surgery was a success. The tumor has been completely resected, and nerve function is perfectly preserved."

Claire's knees gave out in sheer relief, and Julian quickly caught her arm to steady her.

She found her balance and bowed deeply, her voice trembling uncontrollably. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Quinn was wheeled out and transferred to the ICU for a mandatory three-day critical observation period.

Julian's voice was full of joy. "Claire, the surgery was a success! She's okay now. You don't have to worry anymore!"

"Yeah!"

Claire instinctively glanced down both ends of the hallway, but that familiar figure was nowhere to be seen.

She pulled her gaze back.

Forget it. She didn't even know what she was hoping for.

Claire headed back to Grandview Heights.

The living room was pitch black. The place was empty. Miles hadn't come home, and the apartment felt cold and desolate.

Claire curled up on the couch, opened a delivery app, and ordered a mountain of junk food that Miles usually banned her from eating, spreading it all over the coffee table.

The skewers were dry, the cake was overly sweet, the instant noodles were greasy, and even the bubble tea tasted like nothing.

She frowned.

Her palate had been completely spoiled by Miles.

No matter how late she came home, he would whip up fresh, delicious meals for her—steaks, pastas, whatever she wanted—always mixing up the recipes.

Getting more annoyed the more she thought about it, Claire stripped down and took a quick shower.

In the dead of night, darkness swallowed the city.

The electronic lock on door 501 beeped, and Miles walked in.

He took off his shoes, moving quietly. As soon as he stepped past the entryway, the heavy scent of greasy takeout hit his nose, making him frown.

He flicked on a warm yellow wall sconce, revealing the absolute disaster on the coffee table.

With him gone, she was certainly living her best life. He hadn't received a single text from her all day. Even when she needed details on Quinn's post-op care, she had gone straight to Jared.

"Meow~"

Marmalade dashed out, weaving around Miles's ankles.

Even a cat they'd only had for a week showed more affection. What a heartless woman.

Miles threw the takeout in the trash, wiped down the table, organized the living room, and finally walked into the bedroom.

She was bundled up in the massive bed, a soft lump hidden beneath the covers, her breathing slow and steady in a deep slumber.

He walked past the door toward the master bathroom.