The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 492

Chapter 492 Keep A Secret

Chapter 492 Keep A Secret

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Gavin let his eyes skim over the text Quinn had just sent, the blue glow of the phone briefly lighting the planes of his face. He slipped the device back into his coat, met Julius‘ expectant gaze, and asked, “What exactly is the problem?”

Julius leaned forward, voice low but taut. “Suppose it’s something hereditary,” he said. “Something my family could pass down to our children–what then?”

One of Gavin’s eyebrows climbed, half incredulous. “You don’t have any hereditary disease, Julius. If you did, after generations of the Huxley family serving yours, do you really think I wouldn’t know?”

For three generations, the Huxleys had acted as the Whitethorn family physicians, privy to every chart, every whispered symptom. Nothing about Julius‘ body was a mystery to Gavin.

Julius pressed his lips together, a silent barricade against words he wasn’t ready to share. His father’s recent revelations needed verifying, and until he chased down the truth, he preferred to keep the details to himself.

At last, he spoke. “Write me a prescription for a male oral contraceptive,” he said, tone flat but

eyes wary.

Ever since he and Quinn found their way back to each other, passion had often outrun prudence; most nights they used no protection at all.

If he suddenly insisted on condoms, she would sense the change–and the secrets he was still piecing together.

A silent pill, swallowed at dawn, felt safer. Until the dust settled, he couldn’t risk letting her carry a child forged from uncertainty.

Gavin folded his arms. “Are you sure? Does Quinn know you’re doing this?”

Julius nodded, the motion sharp. “I’m sure. And no, I’m not telling Quinn yet. Neither are you.”

Gavin shrugged, palms up. “Fine, but what do I say when she corners me?”

Julius‘ voice cooled. “Some favors can be granted once, twice, but never a third time. I promised Quinn I wouldn’t hurt you, but that doesn’t mean I would never fire you from being the Whitethorn family’s doctor.”

Gavin threw up both hands. “Come on, Julius, if you fire me, those old geezers from my family will haunt my voicemail. Spare me the lecture.”

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16:04 Mon, Oct 20

Chapter 492 Keep A Secret

59

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Medicine had been the Huxleys‘ religion for a century, each generation adding new trophies to the altar–papers, discoveries, surgical breakthroughs. Yet no matter how high their reputation climbed, one rule remained ironclad: a Huxley would always serve as the Whitethorn family doctor. Gratitude, tradition, destiny–call it what you will.

Julius rolled his eyes. “Then keep your mouth shut and give me the pills,” he said.

Gavin sighed, scribbled the prescription, and, as he tore it free, offered a silent prayer. Please, let Quinn’s next text have nothing to do with contraception.

Twenty–four hours later, that prayer lay in ruins.

The moment Quinn stepped into his office, she skipped greetings altogether and asked, “Do you know of any hereditary diseases in the Whitethorn line–something that could be passed to a child?”

Gavin blinked. “Why the sudden interest?”

She sank into the chair opposite him, worry tightening her voice. “Ever since Julius visited his father in the detention center, he’s been different. Apparently, his mother battled bouts of aggression and depression, and now he’s terrified it might run in the blood.”

Gavin shook his head. “His mother’s illness was acquired, not inherited.”

Quinn exhaled, still unconvinced. “That’s what I told him, but he’s distracted, distant. I need to know, is there anything else he hasn’t said?”

Gavin had served as the Whitethorn family’s live–in physician for years. From the restless nights Julius spent pacing the marble halls to the quiet sunlit mornings when he skipped breakfast, Gavin had charted every heartbeat, every falter.

Gavin paused, his stethoscope–calloused fingers curling as his eyes settled on Quinn. “From everything I’ve seen, physically, the man is sound–no lingering infections, no genetic landmines, nothing waiting to explode under a microscope. This streak of obsession you notice comes from the way he was raised. He spent his childhood studying existence like frost on glass rather than tasting it. But since you walked into his orbit, Quinn, the ice has started to melt. Every day, he looks a shade more human, a little less equation. So promise me this–no matter what flaws surface later, do not leave him. If you do, the fragile humanity he just found might crack beyond repair.

“That will never happen, Gavin. You have my word,” she said.

Gavin exhaled, relief softening his features. “Good. I’ll dig into the questions rattling your mind. Meanwhile, smother Julius with reassurance. If you must, whisper ‘I’m not leaving‘ eight hundred times a day until he believes it.”

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