?Chapter 1450:


    Maia could not reveal the truth about their contract marriage, nor could she bring herself to recount the subtle, chilling estrangement that had shed across Chris’s face moments earlier — the way he had looked at her as though she were a stranger passing by on the street. She could only distill it into a single cruel exnation: Chris had forgotten the feelings that had once existed between them.


    Carsen nodded, absorbing her words with a calm that suggested he had already anticipated this possibility. “I understand. But don’t let it weigh on you too heavily. This may be temporary.” He folded his arms and considered carefully. “From what I observed, Chris’s logical thinking appeared intact — sharper than most, if anything. What he is experiencing may simply be a temporary block, a defense mechanism triggered by intense emotional memory.”


    He paused and scratched his head in an almost boyish gesture of helplessness. Surgical brilliance, it turned out, did not trante easily into emotional wisdom. He attemptedfort anyway — awkward but sincere. “People say affection grows with time. Allow the process to unfold naturally. If he stabilizes, he may be able to leave the hospital early. Being back in familiar surroundings might help restore whatever has been pushed aside.”


    Maia inhaled slowly, letting the air steady her. “Thank you, Dr. Walsh,” she murmured, a quiet resolve settling back into her shoulders. “I feel much better now.”


    In truth, she had prepared herself for this possibility long before it arrived. The panic earlier had been nothing but a brief crack in her armor. A woman who loved deeply always learned to guard her heart with steel while leaving her affection open only to the man she loved. Her defenses had slipped for a moment because her care for Chris ran far deeper than she ever admitted to herself.


    She reminded herself that he was still a patient. The old injury had been removed, but his body and mind were still recovering from the ordeal of brain surgery. A patient’s words were not always aligned with his true intentions — especially under the haze of trauma, detachment, or the fog that followed psychological shock. If he could not remember loving her, she would simply lead him back to that feeling again, one steady step at a time.


    Carsen exhaled in quiet relief, seeing rity return to her eyes. “Good. For now, observation is the central part of his treatment. I’ll also bring in neurology specialists to evaluate his recovery.”


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    His sentence had barely finished when hurried footsteps burst through the corridor behind them.


    “Dr. Walsh! Dr. Walsh!” A nurse appeared, breathless. “Please, quickly — this elderly gentleman needs help!”


    Carsen spun around just as a group of people rushed forward carrying a stretcher. An elderly many upon it, his gray hair matted with sweat, his old military uniform darkened with smoke and grit. His eyes were shut, and his face was flushed with an unnatural, rming red. Several soldiers trailed behind in camouge gear, their expressions tense and dust-streaked.


    Carsen moved immediately. He knelt beside the stretcher, retrieved a small shlight from his coat, and lifted the man’s eyelids. The pupils contracted — faint but immediate. A small relief. It suggested he had only fainted, with brain function appearing unaffected for now.


    “Give me a full rundown,” Carsen said, his voice sharp and steady.


    The nurse stepped forward. “Extremely high blood pressure, irregr heartbeat, severe dehydration, and exhaustion.”


    “Take him to the emergency room. Prepare anti-hypertensive medication and have a defibritor on standby,” Carsen ordered briskly, already moving alongside the stretcher as they rushed toward the ER.


    Maia remained where she stood for half a breath, her gaze flickering between Chris’s room and the unfolding chaos. The emergency room was flooded with patients, and the medical staff scrambled with exhausted urgency — severely outnumbered and visibly strained.


    Her hesitation dissolved. She reached for her white coat, slipped into it with a familiar, purposeful motion, and strode into the emergency room without wasting another second.


    Momentster, Cade burst out of the stairwell, panting and drenched in sweat. The moment he had heard that Dominic copsed while saving the wounded, a terror so sharp it nearly stole his breath had seized him entirely.


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