Fake Dating My Ex's Favourite Hockey Player novel Chapter 174

Chapter 174

“Your three o’clock is confirmed,” she says smoothly. “Mr. Lawrence has been informed that we’re en route. Also-” she reaches into the glove box, “-Mr. Whitney left something for you this morning.”

“My fiancé,” I say, more to myself than her, my tone dry.

Amanda doesn’t flinch. She holds out a small, unmarked white bottle. “More medicine. Experimental, of course. No confirmed diagnosis yet, but Whitney Pharmaceuticals adjusted the dosage based on your last response. He asked me to tell you they’re doing everything they can.”

I take the bottle, turning it slowly in my hand, watching the light catch on its blank label. “Doing everything,” I repeat softly. “How romantic.”

Amanda doesn’t respond. She knows better.

She just drives.

I twist the cap off and lift the bottle to my nose. Amanda stiffens, just slightly like she thinks I might throw it out the window or collapse right here in the back seat. I merely hum, amused. “Hopefully this dosage works better than the last.”

Her knuckles tighten on the steering wheel. I smile faintly. “Stop at the next convenience store. I need water for my medication.”

She obeys without a word, pulling into the lot of a quiet shop off the main road. As soon as she steps out, I unzip my purse and retrieve the small plastic bag tucked carefully inside, I tip the contents of the bottle into it – all of them and after a moment’s thought, select two pills and slide them back into my palm. The rest I seal up and hide away.

000%

18.04

Chapter 174

288 Vouchers

Then I reach into my bag and pour my vitamins into the now–empty bottle.

—

By the time Amanda returns, I’m sitting exactly as she left me – legs crossed, back straight, the two pills balanced in my hand like a threat or a promise. She slides into the driver’s seat and passes me the water. I don’t thank her. I simply swallow the pills and take a long drink, all while she pretends she isn’t watching me in the rearview mirror like her life depends on it.

The haze hits, as expected. A fog settling behind my eyes. Slower this time. Duller. Manageable.

I lean back. “When are my parents due to return?”

Amanda adjusts her hands on the wheel. “Mr and Mrs Vanderbilt just landed in Kigali. The negotiations are expected to last a week, minimum.”

“Mm,” I murmur, tapping a finger to my lips. A week to ensure nothing about those negotiations goes well. I let the thought sit, then add casually, “And my tests? Even without a formal diagnosis, they must have some idea what’s wrong with me.”

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify