So Gregory had found out.
A flicker of guilt crossed Anathea’s eyes.
Yes, that box cutter wasn’t real. It was just a plastic toy. She valued her life too much to risk it in a deadly game with him.
But now that Gregory had uncovered the truth, she felt exposed and uncertain.
She pressed her lips together, and her palms turned sweaty. Yet her gaze stayed firm, almost like she’d accepted whatever came
next.
It was as if she was silently saying, “Yeah, it’s fake. I was bluffing. Now that you’ve caught me, do what you want.”
Gregory stared at her for a long moment, then sighed. His voice was rough with a hint of helplessness as he said, “Anathea, you’re just taking advantage of the fact that I love you.”
Anathea froze, a complicated wave of emotion washing over her.
Who would have thought those words would come out of Gregory’s mouth one day?
So many thoughts flooded her mind, but still she said nothing. She looked away, avoiding his gaze.
Gregory didn’t get an answer. But when he saw her evade his gaze, a flicker of disappointment crossed his eyes.
For some reason, he felt as if a thin, resilient thread were tugging at his heart. It sent a sharp sting through his chest.
“Let’s go.” Gregory slipped the box cutter into his pocket without another word.
Analica nodded. Just as she took a step, Gregory reached out and wrapped his hand around hers. Sensing her fingers curl into a fist, he interlaced his fingers with hers, locking their hands tightly
Anathea frowned and tried to pull her hand away, but he only held on tighter.
“What’s with the death grip?” she snapped, annoyed. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You might.” Gregory’s tone was serious.
If she hadn’t taken that detour to check on Adam or if he’d been just a little slower to notice, she might’ve really slipped away for good.
That was why he kept his hold firm, afraid she would disappear the moment he loosened his grip.
Seeing the worry in his eyes, Anathea finally stopped protesting. She relaxed her fingers and let him hold her hand.
Gregory smiled. As they rounded the corner, he spotted Patrick, who gave him a subtle nod.
Gregory nodded back and led Anathea into the elevator.
Once they’d left, Patrick immediately arranged for Adam to be moved back to his original ward.
“Dr. Myers, why did you order for the patient to be moved to a regular ward and now back again?” a nurse asked, confused. “Don’t ask about orders from above. Just follow them,” Patrick said. “And if Mrs. Sinclair shows up again, try to delay her. Everyone else, assist with the transfer. Understood?”
The nurse didn’t understand, but when she saw the serious look on Patrick’s face, she nodded. “Yes, Dr. Myers.”
As they carefully wheeled Adam back, a figure emerged from another examination room.
Natalle approached the ICU and peered at Adam through the glass window. His eyes were tightly shut. A thoughtful expression flickered across her face.
Chapter 392
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