Chapter 5

Vivian felt her knees buckle beneath her.

A strong arm suddenly encircled her waist, steadying her fall. The crisp scent of sandalwood enveloped her, momentarily disorienting her senses.

"You're burning up. Are you ill?" Ethan's voice held an unfamiliar note of worry.

An instinctive need to shield her surged through him.

'She weighs nothing at all,' he thought with unexpected concern.

"This isn't your business!" Vivian snapped as she regained her footing, attempting to wrench free from his grasp.

She'd planned to walk away with dignity after signing the papers, refusing to appear weak before him. But her traitorous body betrayed her, swaying dangerously even after breaking contact.

Without hesitation, Ethan swept her into his arms. "Hospital. Now."

"Put me down!" Vivian thrashed against his chest. "Have you forgotten we're getting divorced?"

"Legally, you're still my wife until the paperwork clears," he countered firmly.

Cassandra's face paled as she watched them leave. This wasn't part of her plan.

"Ethan, wait!" She clutched her stomach dramatically. "I can't keep up in my condition—"

"Elijah will collect you," Ethan threw over his shoulder without breaking stride. "I can't ignore medical emergencies."

Vivian nearly choked on her disbelief.

'First he impregnates his mistress and files for divorce. Now he's playing the concerned husband?'

'What game is this? Does he think I'm that gullible?'

'Fine. If he wants to play, I'll play.'

With sudden sweetness, she looped her arms around his neck. "How gallant of you, darling ex-husband," she purred, fluttering her lashes.

Ethan's expression darkened, his thoughts unreadable. Across the room, Cassandra's nails dug into her palms.

——

The hospital visit stretched longer than expected. Ethan remained throughout the examination, even waiting for lab results.

"39.3°C," the doctor adjusted his glasses sternly. "Viral, not bacterial. Any later and we'd be discussing organ failure, not fever management."

He turned his disapproval on Ethan. "What sort of husband lets his wife wander underdressed with such a high fever?"

Before Ethan could respond, Vivian burst into theatrical sobs. "Don't blame him, doctor! Sure, he starves me, locks me out in winter storms, cheats openly, and is divorcing me against my will—but I'd endure anything for that handsome face!"

Ethan blinked. 'Since when did she become this... dramatic?'

The doctor sighed deeply. "Youth these days..."

"Complete the IV drip before leaving," he instructed before exiting.

Alone in the ward, tension thickened between them. Four years of marriage, yet they'd rarely shared space like this.

Ethan loomed over the bed. "Finished your performance?"

Vivian coughed weakly. "For now."

The gravity of her condition finally registered—she'd genuinely risked her life.

"Why not reschedule when you felt ill?"

Propped against pillows, fever-flushed and vulnerable, she resembled the gentle woman he once knew. The sight inexplicably tightened his chest.

"Why postpone the inevitable, Mr. Blackwood?" Her whisper held heartbreaking resignation.

She wanted his affection, but refused to indulge the fantasy.

"Thank you for today. You should go—your expecting girlfriend must be worried."

The reminder visibly hardened his features. "Right."

As he turned to leave, a tall figure darkened the doorway.

"Ms. Lockhart, I never imagined divorce proceedings would land you in hospital..."