The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 438

Garrison's fingers stopped typing.

He looked up at Sloane. His bloodshot, exhausted eyes held none of the volatile, suppressed rage from earlier. They only held the pure, immovable stubbornness of an attending physician.

"No," he said. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried absolute finality. "You are low-risk right now, not zero-risk. The tumor has shrunk, but the focal area still has a high probability of relapse. I require real-time access to your biometrics."

Sloane opened her mouth to argue, but seeing the brick-wall expression on Garrison's face, she swallowed the words.

She had known him long enough to know how this worked. He seemed calm and collected most of the time, but when it came to her medical treatment, he wouldn't budge an inch.

"...Fine," she muttered.

The checkup ended. The second Sloane pushed out of the room, Josh sprang up from his chair. He handed her the now-lukewarm latte and effortlessly took the medical file from her hand. "How'd it go?"

"Everything's normal," Sloane said, taking a sip. "He just won't let me take the patch off."

"Dr. Foster is... a professional. It's best to listen to him." Josh smoothly grabbed her canvas tote as well, draping it over his arm as they walked side-by-side toward the elevators.

Inside the clinic, Garrison sat rigidly in his chair. The medical file in front of him had been flipped to the very last page, but he still hadn't registered a single word.

The sound of their footsteps faded down the hall. The elevator chimed softly. In the silence, a violent cramp seized Garrison's stomach, twisting it brutally.

A sharp, agonizing burn shot up from his abdomen, feeling as though someone had lit a raging fire right inside his gut.

He instinctively grabbed his stomach, his fingers digging in hard through the fabric of his white coat. He doubled over, a layer of cold sweat instantly breaking out across his forehead.

Right then, a knock sounded at the door.

"Run a full background check on Clearwater Pharma's activity over the past week. I want to know who their investors are, if they've been subject to any stealth acquisitions, and if there have been any executive shakeups."

He pulled a small pill bottle from his drawer, shook out two white tablets, and swallowed them dry without any water. "Then compile a list of every alternative encapsulation facility on the market."

*

Sloane's designated spot was on the fourth floor of the library, right by the window.

Most of the leaves on the ginkgo tree outside had already fallen. A few stubborn golden fans clung to the branches, glowing brightly in the afternoon sun.

She was deep into an econometrics problem set, her pencil aggressively scratching across her scratch paper, when a shadow fell over her notebook.