Loved You Once But He's My Forever (Chloe) novel Chapter 479

I stood still, my thoughts racing. So, it wasn't just my imagination after all?

It made sense now why Wallace hadn't said anything earlier. His insistence on closing the door suddenly felt deliberate—he must've wanted to ensure no one outside could overhear.

"What's the problem?" I asked, trying to steady my voice.

"There are signs of a possible miscarriage," he replied, his tone measured. "She smells of mugwort, which likely means she's been using herbal remedies and might even be taking progesterone shots in secret."

His explanation unraveled Alisa's strange behavior. She'd been adamant about her baby's health, but her actions hinted at a deeper anxiety.

It seemed as though she cared about the child far more than Luke did.

Even so, that was her concern, not mine. People carry their secrets like fragile glass, and it's not my place to shatter them without cause.

"Thank you, Dr. Mervin," I said, my words sincere.

"She keeps saying the baby's fine, but I worry she might overlook the risks. I thought you should know, so her family can watch over her," he added, his gaze steady.

"I'll make sure of it," I promised.

Wallace opened his medical kit and began mixing medications for Whitney. His hands moved with precision as he spoke. "Ms. Sander, your fever is treatable. But emotional health is just as important, and that's something you'll need to address yourself—or with the right therapist."

At that, a name surfaced in my mind—Dr. Zimmer—he'd helped me once before, and I trusted him.

He was thorough and compassionate, the kind of person who could guide anyone through a storm.

"Whitney," I said, choosing my words carefully. "I know an incredible therapist. He's helped a lot of people, and I think he could help you too. But if you don't feel ready, just forget I mentioned it."

Whitney glanced up, a flicker of humor softening her face.

"No, it's okay. Moving forward is important. But, sis... is he good-looking?"

"What?" I blinked, caught completely off guard. That wasn't the kind of response I expected from her.

It sounded more like something Zoey would say.

She looked toward Wallace, who was focused on his work, and added, "A good-looking therapist might make therapy a bit easier, don't you think?"

I considered her words, then shrugged.

"You know what? You've got a point. Dr. Zimmer is good-looking, and he's single. Oh, and I read somewhere that staring at attractive men's muscles can add four or five years to your life!"

Whitney's faint smile was enough to lighten the room. Whatever struggles she faced, keeping her spirits high felt like the best medicine for now.

Wallace held a syringe as he was pushing out the air bubbles, and spoke without looking up. "Mrs. Bolton, that sort of information isn't rooted in science. I'd suggest avoiding sources like that."

His voice was calm, yet there was something about his tone that made me picture him turning that syringe on me the next moment.

The completely unfazed Whitney added with a hint of laughter, "Even if it doesn't extend your life, it could still improve your taste in aesthetics. And that's worth something, isn't it?"

Whitney's sudden interest took me by surprise, but I didn't let it show. I nodded, eager to keep her engaged. "Exactly! A cheerful mind and a healthy body—that's the secret to everything. Zoey's got a massive stash of this kind of content. I'll have her send you a file later."

I paused, an idea lighting up my face. "And when Carter gets back, I'll ask him to invite some handsome, single guys over. Who knows? Having them around might be just the thing to lift your spirits."

"Mrs. Bolton."

The unexpected voice made me jump. Wallace had appeared behind me, his tone calm but direct, cutting through my chatter like a blade. I turned to face him, feeling a little caught off guard. "Oh, Dr. Mervin," I said, trying to regain composure. "What's the matter?"

"You're standing in my way," he replied, his face as unreadable as ever.

Something about his demeanor always gave me the oddest feeling, like he'd rather stick the needle in me than the patient. It was unnerving.

I stepped aside without hesitation, letting him move closer to Whitney. He leaned toward her, his voice dropping to a soothing murmur. "This might sting a little. Try to hold still."

Whitney's hands rested limply on her lap, their pale, thin appearance making them seem fragile. Her veins were faint and hard to spot, while the needle Wallace held gleamed with an unsettling sharpness.