The Villainess Needs a Hug (Ivy Windsor) novel Chapter 958

Seeing her panic, Director Wylde quickly clarified, "No, it hasn't fallen apart. His condition isn't great, but it hasn't spiraled out of control. The post-operative rejection symptoms are all within our expectations. He's been running a fever these past two days, feeling exhausted and lethargic, so he isn't awake much. That's why there hasn't been any specific news to give you."

As a leading authority in his field, Director Wylde had handled countless cases like this and was completely unfazed by these developments.

But as Ivy listened, her mind automatically conjured images of Jamison lying unconscious, and tears immediately threatened to spill.

"Director Wylde, I want to go in and sit with him," Ivy requested, her voice hoarse.

Director Wylde fell silent, but after a few seconds of consideration, he nodded in agreement. "Alright. Maybe having you in there with him will help him find the strength to fight back."

Ivy changed into sterile scrubs and returned to the Intensive Care Unit, walking straight to Jamison's side.

The moment she saw his face, tears poured down her cheeks uncontrollably.

In just a few short days, his devastatingly handsome face had altered so drastically he looked like a completely different person.

His skin was jaundiced, his eye sockets were deeply sunken, his lips were cracked and dry, and his jawline looked dangerously gaunt.

He lay there in complete silence. If it weren't for the rhythmic beeping of the monitors next to his bed, she almost would have thought...

Unable to stop her tears, she called her husband's name over and over in her mind, but her throat was so blocked by raw emotion that she couldn't make a sound.

The nurse standing nearby gently suggested, "Try talking to him, or gently holding his hand. He might be able to feel it."

Ivy looked at the nurse, her voice entirely broken. "Can I?"

She had assumed he was entirely off-limits to touch, and she hadn't dared to try.

"Just be gentle. It's perfectly fine," the nurse encouraged with a warm look.

Ivy immediately took a deep breath to steady herself. She stepped forward and softly wrapped her fingers around his hand resting on the edge of the bed.

His hand felt so much thinner now, making his long fingers feel rigid and cold.

Ivy carefully held onto it, slowly tightening her grip.

"Jamison... Jamison..." she called out, her voice trembling softly. "Can you hear me? It's Ivy. I came to see you..."

Jamison gave no reaction, remaining completely lifeless in the bed.

Director Wylde had claimed his condition wasn't terrible—Ivy cursed him in her head. Jamison looked like *this*, and Wylde dared to say it wasn't terrible?

She should have demanded to see him sooner.

The nurse quietly slid a chair next to the bed, gesturing for Ivy to sit down.

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