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"It means you're healing. Your mind is finally processing and accepting what happened to you back then. This is good news."
Christian nodded, his gaze drifting to Ivy before shifting back to the doctor.
"I want to be cured soon," he admitted. "I don’t want to hurt Ivy or be a burden on her by getting sick again and again."
Ivy remained silent, even though every fiber of her being wanted to move—to close the distance between them, to wrap her arms around him, to hold him so tightly that he would never doubt his place in her life. She wanted to tell him, over and over again, that he could never be a burden to her.
Christian looked so vulnerable, so broken, completely at her mercy, as if his very existence depended on her presence.
And seeing him like that, her heart didn’t just ache, it shattered, piece by piece, leaving nothing but an unbearable pain in her chest.
The doctor took Christian’s hand, observing his muscles. “Have you experienced any paralytic attacks recently?”
“Not for the past few months,” Christian replied. “I’ve been fine since I came back to the country.”
The doctor’s gaze sharpened. “Since you came back? Or since something else?”
Christian hesitated for a second before answering truthfully. "Since meeting Ivy again."
Ivy’s fingers curled around the hem of her sweater as her eyes snapped to Christian, momentarily caught off guard.
She hadn’t expected to matter to him this much. A soft warmth spread through her chest, a feeling she wasn’t used to. It made her breath catch for a second. She looked down, her fingers gripping the sweater tighter.
When she looked back at him, her heart felt a little heavier, like it was both scared and relieved.
The doctor made some notes in his notebook before standing up and shaking Christian’s hand. “Mr. Evans, since you’re eager to recover, I strongly recommend attending all your sessions regularly. The more consistent you are, the sooner you'll heal."
Christian nodded. “I get it.”
He picked up his phone from the table and walked out of the room. On the way, he grabbed Ivy’s hand, pulling her along with him.
As they exited, his grip on her was firm. He then wrapped an arm around her shoulder, holding her close as they made their way out of the building.
Then, a shaky voice called out from behind them.
“Christian?”
Christian halted. Both of them turned.
An elderly couple emerged from the hospital ward, leaning on each other for support. The man was tall but thin, his silver hair neatly combed back. Despite the tired lines on his face, his dark eyes were still sharp.
The woman, shorter and frailer, held onto his arm as she walked. Her silver hair was swept into a loose bun, soft wrinkles framing her gentle eyes. A thin scarf wrapped around her neck, and her sweater hung loosely over her small frame.
A rare smile softened Christian’s face. “David. Rita.” He immediately walked over, supporting them as they slowly moved toward the waiting chairs. “What are you both doing here?” he asked.
"Just a doctor’s check-up for old people’s sickness," Rita answered sweetly before glancing at Ivy. "New assistant?"
"My wife," Christian said at once, a proud smile stretching across his lips as he pulled Ivy closer. "Ivy, this is Rita. Say hi."
"Hello." Ivy smiled and shook their hands one by one.
The old couple beamed.
“Oh! How wonderful!” Rita reached out, shaking Ivy’s hand warmly. “You’re very beautiful.” Then she turned to Christian, smacking his arm lightly. “You didn’t tell us you were getting married?”
Christian chuckled. “I was going to invite you to be my groomsmen when we host the wedding. We haven't had the ceremony yet. Just signed the papers so far. A court marriage."
David nodded in approval. "Good thing. You look so much better now that you have a wife. Look at your face. No dark circles anymore."