The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 209

"If you want to dive, I won't stop you."

He loosened his iron grip on her wrist, his fingers dragging lightly across her skin, leaving a faint trail of heat in their wake. "But you have to do one thing for me first."

She stared at him, fully on edge.

"Let me perform an Emergency Targeted Therapy session on you."

His voice shifted back to his signature commanding, clinical tone. "I have to stabilize the lesion in your brain. If I don't, it could trigger at any moment down there. Diving thousands of feet into a freezing lake isn't a game. If the pain hits, you won't even have a chance to call for help."

"You said it yourself—this isn't just about you. If you go down, you're risking the lives of the entire team."

Her lips parted, ready to fire back.

"The procedure only takes two hours," he interrupted firmly. "Once it's done, you can make the dive. I won't stand in your way." He paused, his gaze pinning her in place. "But I'm going to be right there watching."

She studied him—he sat perfectly straight, his hands resting on his knees. His posture seemed relaxed, but his eyes were anything but.

There was an intensity in his gaze that she had never seen before. It wasn't the detached focus of a surgeon, and it wasn't the fury of a slighted husband. It was the pure, unadulterated desperation of a man clinging to his very last shred of hope, absolutely refusing to let go.

"What gives you the right to make that call for me?" she asked, a surge of irritation flashing in her chest.

"I'm not making a call for you," he whispered, his voice so low it was meant only for her ears. "I am... begging you."

Her heart practically stopped in her chest. She desperately wanted to deny it, but an overwhelming wave of sorrow flooded her veins, entirely consuming her heart.

It was as if she were a wounded, neglected child who had suddenly been swept up and held with the utmost care.

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