The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 43

Outside the hospital room, Vivian's hand hovered mid-air, completely frozen.

Ten years?

The legendary past flame that everyone rumored Miles couldn't let go of?

Claire wasn't receiving special treatment because she was a lookalike.

She was receiving it because—she was the very woman Miles had spent years dreaming about.

Inside the room.

As the anesthetic slowly wore off, the pain woke Claire up.

The smell of antiseptic filled her nose, and the moment she opened her eyes, she saw Miles sitting beside her bed.

"You're awake? Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?"

He leaned forward, his tone noticeably tense.

"It hurts, Miles, my arm hurts so much..."

Her eyelashes fluttered, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Her voice was breathy and soft.

"Dr. Zimmerman, it hurts so much... what do I do?"

Those few words threw the man in front of her into complete disarray.

He couldn't take the pain for her, but if he could, he would do it in a heartbeat.

"The anesthetic is wearing off, so it's bound to hurt. If you really can't stand it, we can use painkillers."

Claire shook her head, her voice growing even softer, laced with an unreasonable dose of coquettishness. Her eyes were bright and full of reliance.

"I don't want medicine. I want Dr. Zimmerman to blow on it."

"If you blow on it, maybe it won't hurt anymore..."

She was being blatantly unreasonable.

Miles didn't hesitate for a second.

He leaned down, bringing his face close to her heavily bandaged arm. Parting his lips, he gently and earnestly blew a few breaths over the wound.

The man's warm breath ghosted through the gauze, sending a faint, tingling sensation across her skin.

Claire blinked, murmuring softly, "You really live up to your title, Dr. Zimmerman. It actually doesn't hurt as much anymore..."

The man gave a helpless half-smile, a subtle indulgence in his expression that even he didn't realize was there. "Nonsense."

"Are you hungry? Tell me what you want, and I'll have someone bring it over."

Claire didn't have much of an appetite, but seeing his earnest demeanor made her want to push her luck.

"I want something light, but I can't move my arm. Dr. Zimmerman, whatever shall I do?"

She tilted her face up, a glimmer of slyness in her eyes masking a seemingly innocent request as she slowly laid out her premeditated trap.

"Could you feed me?"

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