All Chapters of The Billionaire's Sixty-Day Wife: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Camila's POVI don't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see the faded photograph and the sentence written across the back. By the time I arrive at St. Matthew's Medical Center, I've convinced myself there has to be a reasonable explanation because I refuse to believe the alternative. The familiar smell of antiseptic greets me as I step off the elevator onto Maria's floor. Nurses smile when they see me, a few wave, and someone calls out, "Morning, Camila!" but today I barely manage a smile in return.Apparently, I'm not as good at pretending as I thought.Lena studies my face for three seconds before crossing her arms. "Okay, who do I need to fight?" Despite myself I laugh, but she doesn'

Camila's POVMonday mornings in the emergency department never believe in mercy.The waiting room is already overflowing before my shift officially begins, two ambulances arrive less than five minutes apart, and somebody yells for trauma room three before I've even managed to drink my coffee.In other words, everything is perfectly normal."Reyes!" Brian calls while pushing a stretcher past me. "Welcome back to civilization.""I was gone for three days, not three years.""It felt like three years."Karen walks by carrying patient files."He's being dramatic.""I'm always dramatic," Brian replies proudly. "It's part of my charm."Karen doesn't even look at him."It's really not."Laughter ripples through the nurses' station as everyone dives back into work, and despite the endless alarms and organized chaos, I find myself smiling.I've missed this place.However, it doesn't miss me enough to let me eat lunch.By one o'clock I've treated eight patients, helped stabilize two trauma cases

Camila's POVSunday mornings are dangerous.For the first time in what feels like forever, nobody is rushing to the hospital, no reporters are waiting outside the gate, and no emergency phone calls interrupt breakfast.The Malibu estate is unusually peaceful.Soft music drifts through the open windows while sunlight spills across the dining room, and somewhere in the kitchen Mrs. Harper is arguing with the chef over the proper amount of butter."I heard that," the chef calls."I wanted you to," Mrs. Harper answers without missing a beat.I laugh into my coffee.Alejandro looks up from the newspaper."What?""Nothing.""You laughed.""I did.""So something happened.""You'll survive not knowing.""I doubt it."Mrs. Harper appears carrying pancakes."You two are exhausting before nine in the morning.""We've barely spoken," Alejandro says.She snorts."Exactly."I look at her."What does that mean?""It means married people argue before breakfast."Alejandro folds his newspaper."I wasn

Camila's POVThe emergency department changes in a heartbeat.One second Brian is arguing with Karen over whose turn it is to buy coffee. Next, every monitor is screaming."Trauma incoming!"Doctors and nurses move before anyone finishes giving orders. Stretchers race through automatic doors, paramedics shout vital signs over the noise, and the entire department shifts into the familiar rhythm of controlled chaos.I don't have time to think because the moment the first trauma patient arrives, instinct takes over. Hours disappear in a blur of desperate voices, flashing monitors, and hurried footsteps as we fight to save a frightened little boy, rush a highway collision victim into surgery, and struggle through a cardiac arrest before the next emergency crashes through the doors.Then another emergency arrives before we've even caught our breath. Nobody looks at the clock, nobody sits down or eats.By the time we finally stabilize our last patient, my legs are shaking.Brian sits on t

Camila's POVMonday mornings usually begin with coffee but today begins with a number.Forty.I stop in the hallway outside the kitchen, staring at the calendar Mrs. Harper keeps pinned to the wall. Someone has circled the contract's final day in red ink weeks ago, and beneath today's date, my eyes automatically count the squares that remain.Forty days.Only forty.The number settles in my chest like a stone."Morning."Alejandro's voice makes me jump.He walks into the kitchen carrying two mugs, then notices I'm still standing in front of the calendar.For one brief second, his smile disappears. He counted too, neither of us says anything.Mrs. Harper looks between us from the stove."You two look as though someone burned breakfast."Alejandro clears his throat. "Nothing's burning."She narrows her eyes."That's disappointing. At least burned pancakes have an excuse."I force a laugh."So that's your standard now?""It became my standard after someone declared charcoal-flavored chic