Not My Prince Charming

On the other end of the phone, I could hear my mother loudly scolding, and Jason's mother, Caroline Gunn, hurriedly trying to explain.

When I arrived at the hospital, it was just around mealtime, and Jason had reserved a private room. As I approached the door, I saw my mother standing with her hands on her hips, angrily shouting at both Jason and Caroline. "Is this how you treat my daughter?" she demanded.

Caroline quickly waved her hands in defense. "Stacey, I only made a meal for the poor girl. She doesn't have any family, and her heart condition made me feel sorry for her. Please, don't misunderstand."

My mother wasn't having it. She turned to Jason and snapped, "And you? You're taking care of patients and getting involved with them? If I hadn't shown up, how long would you two have kept hugging each other?"

Jason rubbed his temples, trying to explain. "She just finished her treatment and was unsteady on her feet. I was just helping her."

My mother was furious. "You two have answers for everything. So I guess Wynter and I are the ones in the wrong, huh?"

Caroline glanced up and saw me standing at the door. She immediately grabbed my hand. "Wynter, don't misunderstand…"

I gave a small laugh and shook my head. "I won't, and I'm not upset. This is just what doctors and their families are supposed to do."

Seeing my genuine smile, Caroline blinked in surprise, unable to say anything. She had often been the one to listen to my complaints in the past.

She studied me for a moment before finally sitting down awkwardly, silent. I held my mother's hand and gave her an encouraging look.

At that moment, the door to the room opened, and Jason's colleagues entered, along with Zara. They were all laughing and joking.

"Jason, how could you leave your girlfriend alone out here in the hallway? That's not very nice."

Some of the doctors had attended our wedding, and when they saw me, their smiles froze.

Zara walked in confidently. "You must be Wynter, right? Don't misunderstand, they're just joking. Dr. Gunn is a compassionate doctor who can't stand seeing sick people suffer."

I was all too familiar with this kind of excuse.

Two years ago, a patient obsessed with Jason had pulled the same stunt on a snowy night, calling him away.

That night, I was stuck on an overpass, eight months pregnant. Jason was less than a mile away, but instead of coming to me, he had rushed to help the woman pretending to be gravely ill.

Our child, who was about to be born, was lost to me forever.

When Jason finally arrived, there was no comfort. Instead, he yelled at me.

"What are you doing out here at eight months pregnant? You're asking for trouble! I'm a doctor; the safety of my patients comes first. Don't you have any common sense as my wife?"

The painful memory cut like a knife, and when I looked at the man in front of me, I didn't even feel hatred. I just didn't care anymore.

I reached for my mother's hand, wanting to leave, but Zara stopped me. "Wynter, you can be angry at me, but please don't misunderstand Dr. Gunn."

I immediately noticed the watch on her wrist—it was the exact same one that Jason had given me last month.

Jason's face showed a flash of panic as he quickly intervened. "That watch came as part of a promotion. I figured you wouldn't wear two, so I just gave it to her."

I didn't even bother to look at him. I simply nodded and tried to pull away from Zara and Jason's grasp.

But then Zara gasped. "Dr. Gunn, I'm so sorry. I broke your pendant."

I looked down and saw the crystal pendant on the floor. It was a precious heirloom from Jason's father, one he never usually showed to anyone, and even I wasn't allowed to touch it.

The necklace that had held it was around Zara's neck, standing out like a sore thumb.

Jason lost his composure, panic spreading across his face as he reached out for me.

I pulled away from his hand and slowly spoke to the room.