Rebirth Into My Second Chance

With a smile in my eyes, I walked over to him, intending to formally thank him and ask what gift he wanted. Yet, as I approached, I realized he wasn't just angry; his lips were pale, and his complexion bloodless. The moment I reached his side, he collapsed onto me with considerable weight.

"Max..."

Instinctively, I checked him for injuries, finding none. "Max, what's wrong?"

Given his tall stature and the athletic build from his regular gym routine, he felt especially heavy when he fell.

I managed to drag him back to his apartment, kicking the door shut behind us.

I placed him on the couch, touching his sweat-chilled forehead.

Could he have skipped meals for an autopsy?

"Max, could it be low blood sugar?"

He didn't respond.

I headed to his kitchen to rummage around and found that his fridge was stocked with nothing but milk.

Continuing my search in the cupboard, I discovered bags upon bags of glucose...

Max really went all out for his surgeries.

open a packet, I noticed the trash bin overflowing with empty

day? No wonder he seemed so drained, barely even wanting to talk earlier. Only the sound of my scream seemed to give him a burst

glucose with a spoon, but he seemed too far

"Max, wake up."

scared me. I pinched his cheeks, glanced at the glucose bag, bit my lip, and then took a sip myself.

he didn't open his mouth, so I carefully pried open

was him or the

moment, I was somewhat

to feed him a few sips in this way, a warm hand suddenly wrapped around my waist, pulling me

my lips, overwhelming,

resist. In fact, I

up from my waist then suddenly

he pushed me

and restrained, never overstepping boundaries,

nose, avoiding looking at

okay, should

I

shouldn't have

you. B

you have every day? Dr. Hilton, are you