All Chapters of Surgeon's Revenge: From Ex Wife To Country's Best Doctor : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Scarlett's POV The kitchen smelled like fresh toast and coffee when Aiden came in. I was packing lunches, when I caught it. He moved slower than usual, shoulders a little rounded, like the weight of his backpack was already too much. "Good morning," I said. "Morning." His voice came out flat. He crossed to the table and sat down and put both hands on the surface and looked at them. I watched him from the counter. "You okay?" I said. "Yeah." He didn't look up. "Just tired." "Did you sleep?" "I think so." He pressed his fingers against the table like he was checking the surface. "My head hurts a little." I set the lunch box down. "Since when?" I asked. "Since I woke up." He finally looked at me. "It's not bad. Just there." I crossed to the table and straightened his collar, he had pulled it crooked without noticing, and while I did I put two fingers against the inside of his wrist, kightly. His pulse was there, but his skin was cooler than it should have been and slightly

Scarlett's POV I woke up at four eleven and lay there staring at the ceiling thinking about what the conversation I had with Agent Ashfield. Spencer was asleep beside me, breathing slow. I'd been lying next to him for three hours and hadn't said more than twelve words since we got home from Fifth Avenue Street. He'd tried once, standing in the kitchen while I made tea I didn't drink and I'd said goodnight and that was that. I got up at five, went to the kitchen window and looked down at the street. A dark sedan parked across the road. I stood there for two full minutes watching it before the driver got out, it was a middle aged woman with a work bag, walking toward the train stop. I sighed and went make coffee and stood at the window until the sky started to go grey. Aiden came down at seven fifteen in his soccer shirt arguing with himself about something. "Good morning," I said. "Morning." He pulled the fridge open. "We still don't have orange juice." "We have apple juice."

Scarlett's POV Aiden looked up at me. "I'm fine," he said. "I just slipped." "You didn't slip, Aiden." I said. "You almost fainted." "No I didn't, it's my socks." He looked down at his feet. "You always say they're slippery on this floor." "Aiden." I tilted my head slightly. "Mom." He straightened up and held both hands out slightly. "See? I'm good." I looked at his face, his color was normal. He wasn't even breathing hard. I took his wrist anyway, his pulse was there. Maybe sixty eight, seventy. Completely normal for a boy who'd just been at soccer practice. "Does your chest feel tight?" I asked. "No." He said sharply.v "Any pain anywhere?" I didn't let go of his wrist. "No, Mom." He was starting to look more embarrassed than anything. "I just slipped. My socks are literally sliding on every floor in this apartment." I looked at his feet, his socks were the smooth kind. The ones I'd told him three times were not okay for the floors. I let go of his wrist. "Go back upstai

Spencer's POV I woke up before the alarm like always. The apartment was still dark, that quiet gray before the sun decided to show up. Scarlett was curled against my side, one arm thrown across my chest, her breathing slow and even. I lay there for a minute just feeling the weight of her, the warmth from last night still sitting solid in my chest. She’d said it. Out loud. Not slipped out in the middle of something else. She’d looked me in the eye and said the words. I love you. I slipped out of bed careful not to wake her, pulled on sweatpants, and headed to the kitchen. The coffee maker clicked on with that familiar gurgle. I stood at the counter watching the pot fill, the smell hitting me strong and good. Last night kept playing in my head, the way she’d grabbed my shirt, the sound she made when I pushed inside her on that counter, the way she’d said it again after, soft and sure. Ten years. I’d waited ten damn years to hear it. Aiden’s door creaked open down the hall. Morning

Scarlett's POV Saturday came too fast and the field was still damp from last night’s rain. The grass had that slick shine that made every cleat slip if you weren’t paying attention. I stood on the sideline with my coat zipped all the way up, hands shoved deep in my pockets. Valeria was glued to my left side, her eyebrows shot up every time Aiden touched the ball. Spencer stood on my right, arms crossed. Nicholas was a little further down the line, hands in his coat pockets, shifting his weight like he couldn’t stay still. The whistle blew and the game started. Aiden looked sharp right from the kickoff. Really sharp. The new formation they’d been drilling all week actually clicked. In the fourteenth minute Danny made that exact run they’d practiced, cutting inside with that quick little burst of speed. Aiden was right there in the perfect spot, one clean touch, and he slotted it past the keeper. The parents on our sideline went wild. I heard someone behind me yell “Yes!” so loud