After the Divorce, the CEO Begged to Remarry Me

She instantly remembered what Dr. Simon had said about emergencies-patients with weakened immunity could spiral fast, even from something as simple as a high fever.

Stay calm. Gotta stay calm.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to pull it together. Without wasting a second, she grabbed the room's landline and called Jack. Her words were quick and to the point-just enough so he knew to go find Simon ASAP.

Then she dashed into the bathroom, soaked a towel in cold water, wrung it until it was just damp, and hurried back. Her movements were careful but fast as she pressed the cool cloth to Ethan's burning forehead. With another towel, she gently dabbed at his neck, those heat-rich spots, trying to bring the fever down however she could.

"Ethan, can you hear me?" she asked softly while she worked, speaking close to his ear. Her voice stayed as steady as possible, like she could call him back with just her words. "Hang in there, okay? Dr. Blake will be here any second. You're gonna be fine, you hear me?"

But the man on the bed looked trapped somewhere between unconsciousness and pain, unresponsive to her voice. He only let out low, pained groans, his body shivering one moment and tensed up the next, burning up and clearly suffering.

Carol's chest tightened painfully.

Right now, Ethan was miles away from the cold, sharp version of himself. He looked fragile-like a glass doll about to shatter.

That sharp contrast between his usual strength and this sudden vulnerability-it hit her hard, left her breathless.

She didn't stop. Kept swapping out towels. Kept talking to him. Whether he could hear her or not, she just kept going.

"Ethan! Can you hear me?!"

She bent over again, reaching to switch out the towel on his forehead, when suddenly-a burning hot hand clamped down on her wrist.

It was strong. Startlingly strong. It actually hurt.

She froze, staring down at him.

His eyes were still shut, his awareness way out of reach, but his grip was tight like he'd latched onto the only thing keeping him steady in all the chaos inside his body.

Cracked lips barely moved, mumbling faint sounds that barely counted as words.

Holding her breath, Carol leaned in to listen.

It sounded like a name.

Hard to tell. But one thing was clear-it wasn't her name.

That small truth pricked at her heart like a tiny needle-just painful enough to notice. But she pushed those thoughts away. Now wasn't the time.

She didn't pull her hand away. Instead, used her free hand to keep caring for him as gently and steadily as before.

And this time, her voice softened almost instinctively, way more gentle than she meant. "It's okay... just hold on to me. I'm right here."

In this chaotic, fever-heavy night... in this dim room thick with sickness... she let him cling to her hand-let him hold on like she was his only tether in the world.

Ethan's eyes stayed closed, long lashes twitching slightly with the pain. It looked like he didn't even have the strength to open them-but in the moment her warm towel brushed against his cheek, Carol felt it-just barely, but real-his body relaxing the tiniest bit.

Time dragged.

The sound of rain and thunder from outside blended with his rough, angsty breathing.

Then finally... the sound of a car pulling up grew louder.

Jack and Simon arrived at the same time.

Ethan finally passed out, and that burning-hot hand of his slipped from her grasp, limp and heavy.

Carol lowered her gaze to the ring of red marks on her wrist, then looked back at the man, unconscious yet still frowning in pain. For a long moment, she just stood there, frozen.

It felt like the air hadn't fully cooled yet-it still carried a trace of his feverish heat and that muddled mumble he'd whispered before passing out.

In that moment, she saw something underneath Ethan's usual tough shell-something raw and fragile. A need. A deep, helpless sort of dependence. And she wasn't even sure if that dependence was meant for her.

Simon rushed upstairs, and with Jack's help, moved Ethan to another room packed with medical equipment. They got to work immediately.

Carol was stuck outside. She stood with her toes brushing the cold tile floor, ear pressed to the door. Even the soft beeping from inside felt louder to her.

The image of Ethan coughing up blood, dark red smearing the corner of his mouth, played on repeat in her head, stabbing at her heart like a needle, leaving her fingers icy cold.

For the first time, she really grasped how fragile life was-even for someone like Ethan, who always acted like he didn't give a damn. He talked about life and death with such ease, like none of it mattered. But in reality, his life could be snuffed out like a candle in the wind.

Finally, the door opened.

Simon pulled off his mask, looking serious. "It's acute pulmonary infection. He was coughing up blood, but we've stabilized him for now. That said, someone has to stay with him tonight-monitor his breathing and temperature closely. We can't afford any more mistakes."

Jack stepped forward right away. "Ma'am, why don't you get some rest? I'll stay-"

"No need," Carol cut in, firm and steady. "It's easier if I stay. You wait downstairs-if we need to rush to the hospital again, I'll need you to drive."

She shook her wrist and tried to throw in a little humor. "Besides, I'm his legal wife. If I don't step up now, his mom's gonna think I'm slacking."

Jack paused, saw she wasn't even a little hesitant, and just nodded. "Alright then. I'll be downstairs if you need me."

After sending Simon and Jack off, Carol gently pushed open the door to the room.

Ethan was back in bed. He looked a bit better than earlier, but still pale as a sheet. His dark lashes rested quietly against his cheeks, softening the sharp lines that were usually so cold and unyielding.

Carol pulled up a chair and sat down by his bed. Her eyes drifted to the hand outside the blanket-strong and well-defined, but with fingertips icy to the touch.

Before she knew what she was doing, she reached out and gently held it, trying to pass her warmth to him.

The instant her skin touched his, his hand twitched slightly, then turned over to grasp hers in return.

It wasn't a tight grip-more like he was holding on so gently it almost didn't register-like he was clinging to something precious in his sleep, something he didn't want to let slip away.

Carol froze, heart pounding. But she didn't pull away. She let him hold on.

His cold fingers and the heat from her palm mingled together, slowly melting into a quiet, fragile warmth that settled over the room.

That night felt endless.

As dawn crept in through the windows, Carol finally dozed off, her head resting on the edge of the bed. A faint tickle on the back of her hand woke her up.

Her eyes blinked open. Ethan was awake.

He was trying to sit up, and her hand...was still in his.

When he realized it too, his movement stalled. He looked down at their joined hands, his eyes flickering with something unreadable-confusion, surprise, maybe something else. Then, like he'd been burned, he quickly let go.