Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption by Lilyheart

Chapter 234: Phobia

"That’s more like it," she grumbled, her face turned away, refusing to meet his gaze.

Her cheeks were still puffed from crying, eyes rimmed with red. Davis felt his chest tighten.

He felt guilty for being the one person who had made her shed tears.

"Why are you crying?" His voice softened, laced with concern. "I only told you to stay back and get treated. Or... is it really that hard to hang a bottle?" He frowned, unsure if he was missing something bigger.

As much as he hated seeing her cry, he had to be strict with her. She needed to learn how to care for herself now, how to put herself first.

Her selfless attitude had always been a matter of concern to Davis, and he had always nagged her for being too careless—thinking about others without thinking about herself, even when chaos brimmed before her.

Jessica bit her lower lip, her voice a whisper. "It’s... a bit difficult. And I’m not sick, Davis. Just... experiencing symptoms." She still wouldn’t look at him, staring at the floor like it held all the answers.

Davis let out a breath, his fingers brushed the tears from her lashes with slow care before he pulled her into a gentle hug.

"Baby," he said, his voice aching with emotion, "do you know what might happen if these symptoms spiral into something worse? You might also think it’s a symptom when in truth it has already taken from you so much. Do you think I could bear that? My heart’s not that strong." He concluded. Mm

Her pout deepened. "That still doesn’t mean you should shout at me..."

At that, Davis felt a headache pulsing behind his eyes. For the past week, she had exhibited certain traits—she was turning into a full-blown sulky child, crying and throwing tantrums to get what she wanted.

The transformation from the fierce, sharp-tongued Jessica to this emotional, vulnerable woman was stunning and terrifying.

He sighed inwardly. He would have chosen to have the fierce Jessica over and over again. But as he stared at her now—teary-eyed and clinging—he knew, without a doubt, that he loved this version of her too.

"Alright, hubby was wrong. He won’t raise his voice at you again," he coaxed, rubbing her back gently.

"Now, can we talk about hanging the nutrient bottle?" His hand never stopped patting her back to keep her calm. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but even just one bottle would help.

"I can’t," she murmured, her voice trembling. "I’m... scared of hospitals."

Davis’ hand faltered, his heart skipped a beat as he detached himself from her, holding her shoulder and his gaze settled on her face as though he was seeing her for the first time.

the hospital?" he asked again unbelieving. "But you work in one. And not just one, but you are a surgeon, right?" he asked, his gaze

right, I can go to the hospital, I can enter the operating room, I can

you’re able to handle your work efficiently, isn’t it possible you can also

thought—saving my mother. That’s what keeps me going. Call it my coping mechanism and

back, even if it’s just in my mind. But when it’s about me... it’s different. I can’t breathe. I see her eyes. That

herself for being incapable. If she had been capable, she would have been able to perform that surgery. She should have been able to detect the poisoning. She

she made a decision to save her if given a chance—every surgery, every shift, every care she gave had

her own health, the memories turned dark. She saw herself weak, breathless, watched

past, she had fallen unconscious just because her subordinate thought the distance to the base was much

the air out of his lungs seeing her red eyes

to protect him and shield him

loss, and now that she was the one in need, everything came crashing down that saving

that mean, he had to plan her giving birth to be at home?" He mused

hair. "You don’t have to go to the hospital. We’ll do the treatment at home, and I’ll take care of

around his

always taken treatments at home and dared not keep her eyes open to witness the

her house. Her subordinates had also been instructed not to take her to hospital no matter how terribly hurt

you," he said. "Until you heal. Until the shadows don’t scare you anymore," he said with an assurance and

pain hidden but never thought

this was what healing looked like—tears shared, hearts opened, pain finally seen. Yet, she couldn’t help marveling at her emotional control rating

"I am getting too

pulled her away from himself, seeing her fully calm. "What can

with a raised brow. She had always remembered her father’s

crybaby like you. Not even your mother would want you."

mother not to be a crybaby. She no longer cried no matter how hurt she was but would suppress the

interference, it seemed all these facades were broken

have to find you a burden? No matter how it turns

a sigh of relief and with determination to get her

a strand of hair from her face. "Now let’s just hope Deborah doesn’t nag you again for missing