Obsession His Runaway Bride (Noelle and Adrian) novel Chapter 93

Chapter 93: Death

Chapter 93: Death

The door to Grace’s room swung open, and Dr. Everett stepped inside, his expression already grim. His eyes immediately landed on the unconscious woman lying on the bed–her face was swollen, bruises already darkening against her pale skin, and her breathing was far too shallow for his liking. But what caught his attention next was Marco.

The man was seated at the edge of the bed, his fingers wrapped tightly around Grace’s limp hand as if letting go would shatter her completely. His usually composed face was etched with something the doctor rarely saw in him–worry. A raw, unfiltered kind of worry that made his grip tremble ever so slightly. He knew who this man was to Grace.

And the thought of it only made Dr. Everett sigh. He had been the Blackwood family’s doctor since Grace was just a baby, and he had witnessed every dark secret hidden behind these walls–including the tragedy that was her existence.

Although Grace was not an illegitimate child, she had always been treated as one. He had seen it all firsthand. When both sisters were sick, only the elder was given treatment. When Faith was weak and frail, she was held and comforted. But Grace? She was left alone, expected to heal on her own, as if she were unworthy of the same care.

There were times when he was called to the estate to check on Faith, but in secret, he would steal moments to check on the little girl playing by herself in the empty hallways. The child who learned early on that no one would come for her. The child who grew up knowing that her mere existence was a burden.

And as she grew older, that resentment toward her festered.

The household hated seeing her healthy while Faith remained fragile. People whispered curses behind her back, eyes glaring with undisguised loathing. And then, the whispers turned into attempts to harm her, poison her, and rid the family of the daughter they never wanted. But somehow, she survived. Every single time, she survived.

Some would call it luck. Others would call it defiance.

But Dr. Everett knew better.

Because beneath the illusion of strength she had been showing, Grace’s body had long been deteriorating. She was a master at masking pain, at brushing things off with a laugh, but Dr. Everett had seen through it from the very beginning.

And even now, he could still remember the hollow look in her eyes from two years ago–the exact moment she learned of her own illness.

-FLASHBACK-

“Grace… How have you been feeling?” Dr. Everett asked, folding his hands together as he studied her. His voice was calm, gentle even, but there was hesitation in his eyes.

“I’m doin y well, sir,” she answered with a bright, easy smile. The kind of smile that could make anyone believe she had nothing to worry about. “The pain relievers are effective. I don’t have nosebleeds anymore, although the bruises are still there. But I think that’s just because I’ve been getting into fights lately.” She chuckled, completely unbothered, as if she hadn’t just admitted to getting hurt.

Dr. Everett’s lips pressed together into a thin line. “…I see. That’s good.” He sighed, his fingers tightening slightly on the edge of his desk.

“But, Grace,” he continued as his voice turned quieter now. “I called you here for this.”

He reached for a sealed envelope and slid it across the table toward her.

Grace blinked, tilting her head slightly before picking it up and tearing it open with casual curiosity. She pulled out the paper inside and began reading with a relaxed expression–until it wasn’t.

Her fingers tightened slightly on the paper.

Dr. Everett didn’t need to ask if she had understood. He could see it The way her body subtly stiffened. The way her breath

hitched so faintly it was almost imperceptible.

Still, he spoke. Because she needed to hear it.

“Grace,” Dr. Everett said carefully, watching her closely. “You have leukemia.”

He braced himself for a reaction. But instead, Grace simply placed the paper down with eerie calmness and smiled at him. A smile so hollow it sent a chill down his spine.

“Please don’t tell anyone about this,” she said, her voice light, almost conversational. “Not my sister, not Marco, nor my father.

Dr. Everett could only nod.

He had known her since she was a child. He had seen the way she was treated, how she had endured things no one should. And yet, she had always managed to keep going.

Until now.

And her next words made his stomach drop.

“I’d like to sign an A.N.D. order.”

“What?!” His voice came out sharper than he intended, his palms slamming onto the desk. “How do you even know about that?!

Grace simply shrugged, leaning back in her chair with the same detached amusement. “I read.”

Dr. Everett clenched his jaw. “Miss Blackwood, I will not allow this ”

He could not believe what he heard. She should have been arguing with him about treatment plans, about survival rates, about fighting. Instead, she sat across from him with an unnerving calm expression, asking for the right to die on her own terms.

His hands curled into fists on the desk.

“Grace…” His voice was quieter now, almost pleading. “Leukemia isn’t always a death sentence. There are treatments—”

“I don’t want them.” Her voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Dr. Everett clenched his jaw. “You’re not even giving yourself a chance.”

“A chance for what?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “To live just so I can suffer longer?”

Dr. Everett exhaled sharply. “This isn’t something you decide so easily. You need time to—”

interrupted, her gaze dark and unwavering. “If I go into cardiac arrest, don’t revive me.”

“Doctor,”

“Grace-

“If my lungs fail, don’t intubate me.”

He felt his stomach twist.

“If my body gives up, let it.”

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

Finally, Dr. Everett closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. Then, he opened his eyes and met her gaze once more, searching for anything that would tell him she wasn’t serious. But all he found was certainty and exhaustion.

“You know me, Dr. Everett,” she murmured as her voice began to soften. “You know my suffering.” She paused.

“Please…” She smiled, but it was empty and lifeless as she looked him in the eyes.

Chapter 23 Dech

“Let me have the joy of knowing that even if I don’t own my life least I own my death.”

END OF FLASHBACK-

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