The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 396

Sloane was lying on her side under the gray-and-white striped duvet. Her cello stood silently by the nightstand, the metal latches of its case gleaming faintly in the low light.

Her breathing was deep and even, her chest rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic cadence. Her lips were slightly parted, and her eyelashes cast soft, ash-colored shadows across her skin.

She wasn't frowning. She looked deeply peaceful, the warm light bathing her complexion in a luminous, golden hue.

Garrison's hand instinctively reached out, hovering over the doorknob...

His fingers curled, pressing against the cold metal.

But he didn't turn it. Because at that exact moment, the words she had spoken echoed loudly in his mind:

"I really don't like you."

"I'm not interested in older men."

"Dr. Foster, please show some self-respect."

He stood by the door, gripping the handle, and let out a silent, self-deprecating scoff.

Perhaps...

Years ago, if it hadn't been for that unexpected pregnancy, this proud, fiercely independent girl would never have fallen in love with him in the first place.

It was painfully obvious that she just didn't like his type.

The hallway was dead silent, save for the soft sound of her breathing escaping the study, mingling with his own heavy, ragged breaths as he tried to suppress his stomach cramps.

Finally, he let go of the handle and gently, carefully, pulled the door completely shut.

The moment the door clicked into place, the light was severed. The hallway sank back into the gloom, illuminated only by the weak, amber glow of the wall sconce casting shadows over his pale face.

He had scrutinized every single data point a thousand times, but he read down the lines again anyway, desperate to uncover some hidden, miraculous answer he might have missed.

He swiped to her latest scan results.

Glioblastoma Multiforme. Stage Four. Following the first phase of treatment, the tumor volume had shrunk by sixty-seven percent, downgrading its malignancy from Stage Four to Stage Two. The infiltration zone had significantly receded, the surrounding edema had basically vanished, and the ventricular compression had been completely relieved.

The conclusion box contained one bolded sentence—"Patient has reached low-risk criteria."

He tapped the screen lightly against that sentence, three times. Then, he set the tablet down on the blankets, took off his glasses, closed his eyes, and exhaled a long, heavy breath.

This meant... Sloane truly didn't need to stay in the hospital anymore.

She only needed to take her meds on time and attend her scheduled follow-ups.