The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 246

Claire's hand, gripping his shoulder, froze for a second.

He was burning up this badly, yet he was still thinking about Lauren Sinclair. Sigh... the power of an unattainable ideal truly shouldn't be underestimated.

"Get up, I'm taking you to the hospital."

"I'm not going. You're trying to abandon me again," Miles mumbled, his arms tightening around her in a desperate grip. "You lied to me."

"You lied ten years ago, and you're still lying now?"

His body was burning like a coal, his mind clouded, his voice fractured.

Claire felt a heavy weight in her chest. A ten-year bond—how could she, the latecomer, possibly compete with that? She could understand why Miles couldn't forget her.

"Wake up. I'm not Lauren."

Claire struggled against his grip but couldn't break free. She didn't dare push him too hard either; he was so weak, she was afraid she might seriously hurt him.

The man was delirious, his burning forehead pressed into her shoulder, whimpering softly. The breath he exhaled felt like fire against her skin.

Claire looked down at his flushed face and sighed in defeat.

Fine, his unattainable ideal it was.

She rubbed his back, softening her voice. Mimicking Lauren's usual catchphrase and tone, she adopted a sickly-sweet, whining pitch.

"Miles, darling~ How could I ever leave you?"

She immediately gave herself goosebumps.

But the dark magic worked wonders.

Hearing her promise not to leave, Miles noticeably relaxed his grip. A muffled sound escaped his throat: "Really?"

Of course not!

"Of course, darling. My Miles is the best. I love you the most."

"Mwah!"

She planted a firm kiss on him. This was all Lauren's fault, yet she was the one paying the price!

Feeling her soft lips, Miles slowly loosened his hold on her arm. She seized the opportunity to lean over, snatching her phone from the nightstand and dialing Jared Johnston.

"Dr. Johnston, Miles is burning up."

"Burning up?" Jared muttered groggily. "It's the middle of the night. You really don't need to share your private bedroom affairs with me."

Claire: "...I mean he has a fever. A really high fever that won't break. He refuses to go to the hospital. If you don't get here soon, he's going to fry his brain."

Jared instantly snapped awake. "What's his temperature?"

"I haven't checked yet." Claire tried to push him again, but he wouldn't budge. "But his skin is scorching. It looks pretty serious."

"I'll be right there."

Hanging up, Claire went back to kissing and coaxing him, whispering a barrage of sweet nothings into his ear until she finally managed to peel him off her.

She slipped out of bed to let Jared in.

Jared rushed in with his medical kit. Seeing Miles's condition, his expression turned grim. "It's this bad?"

"He had a sip of liquor tonight, ate some fish and vegetables, and fell asleep like this right after we got back."

Jared paused while preparing the medication, glancing at Claire in surprise. He hadn't expected her to remember the details so clearly.

"It's not what he ate. It's from overworking. His body finally gave out."

Jared injected a fever reducer into Miles's muscle.

He didn't speak. One hand gripped her waist while the other cupped the back of her head as instinct took over, and he descended to kiss her.

"Miles, you're delirious... Mmh~"

He bit her gently, enticing her, leaving her absolutely no room to breathe. When Claire pushed at his chest, he only kissed her harder.

His already scorching body temperature seemed to rise, leaving her completely flushed and breathless.

She had no idea what kind of madness had possessed him, but when it mattered most, Claire shoved him away with all her strength.

Miles's eyes were red from the fever. He looked like an injured, oversized dog, all his defenses completely shattered. All that was left was his scorching breath and his heartbreaking accusation.

"Jared is right. You aren't good to me at all."

"I'm not going to be good to you anymore, either."

With her hands braced against his chest, Claire's eyes darkened inch by inch as she listened to his words.

She poked him hard in the chest, her nails pressing into his burning skin as she raised her chin in a display of fierce arrogance.

"Not playing the good husband anymore? Fine—but the marriage certificate is still valid. As long as I am your wife, you have to treat me well."

"As long as you hold the title, you have to do the job. Understand?"

Her voice grew even more demanding and imperious.

"I want you to cook my breakfast. I want you to wash my clothes. I want you to clean up all my messes."

She paused, then added one more condition.

"And if I want to sleep with you, you strip down and wait for me. Did you hear me?"

The man beneath her stared up with glazed eyes.