Outside the hospital room, Rosalind Linden’s hand froze in mid-air, poised to push the door open.
’Ten years?’
’The one he never got over, the one everyone whispered about, the one Miles Warren could never forget?’
’Claire Kendall wasn’t getting special treatment because she resembled someone else.’
’It was because she *was* the one Miles Warren had spent all his days and nights thinking about.’
Inside the hospital room.
As the anesthetic slowly wore off, Claire Kendall was awakened by the pain.
The scent of disinfectant filled her nostrils. When she opened her eyes, she saw Miles Warren sitting by her bed.
"You’re awake? Are you in any discomfort?"
He leaned forward, his voice tight with concern.
"It hurts, Miles. My hand hurts so much..."
Her eyelashes fluttered, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Her voice was soft and delicate.
"Dr. Warren, my hand hurts... What do I do?"
Those few words were enough to make the man before her lose his composure.
He couldn’t take the pain away for her, but if he could, he would.
"The anesthetic has worn off, so it’s bound to hurt. If it’s unbearable, we can give you painkillers."
Claire Kendall shook her head, her voice growing even softer. It held a hint of unreasonable petulance, and her bright eyes were full of dependence.
"I don’t want medicine. I want Dr. Warren to blow on it."
"If you blow on it, maybe it won’t hurt anymore..."
She was being shamelessly unreasonable.
Miles Warren didn’t hesitate for a second.
He bent down, leaning close to her thickly bandaged arm. His lips parted, and he began to blow gently and earnestly on the wound.
His warm breath seeped through the gauze, creating a faint, ticklish sensation.
Claire Kendall blinked, murmuring softly, "You really are something, Dr. Warren. I think it actually hurts less now..."
A helpless smile touched his lips, its curve holding a fondness he himself hadn’t noticed. "Nonsense."
"Are you hungry? Tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll have it sent over."
Claire Kendall didn’t have much of an appetite, but seeing his earnest expression, she decided to push her luck.
"I feel like something light, but I can’t move my hand. What am I to do, Dr. Warren?"
She looked up at him, her expression a mix of sly cunning and innocent appeal, as she slowly voiced her premeditated request.
"Will you feed me? Please?"
Miles Warren glanced at her manicured nails clutching his shirt and hummed in agreement.
He had food delivered, cooled the porridge, and brought a spoonful to her lips.
She opened her mouth and ate nearly half the bowl. Miles then picked up a napkin...
"I can get that myself..." Claire Kendall began.
But his long fingers were already there, gently and meticulously wiping her mouth clean. The intimate gesture made Claire Kendall’s heart skip a beat.
"Thank you." The tips of her ears grew hot.
Miles Warren stood to clear away the dishes.
Watching his busy figure, Claire Kendall was struck by a thought. ’Older men really are the best. They know how to take care of you.’
She pulled out her phone, snapped a photo of her bandaged arm, and posted it to her private X account with a caption.
"Commemorating my first time getting knifed. It was surprisingly worth it."
Sinclair Group Office.
Jacob Sinclair had just finished an international conference call when a notification popped up from X on his phone.
[New post from Yueyue’s Trying.]
His gaze faltered. Claire Kendall had posted on X.
She had pestered him relentlessly until he’d set her account to send special notifications.
Her entire feed had been about him. All that lovesick nonsense—he couldn’t be bothered to look.
Then, she’d gradually stopped posting.
On some strange impulse, Jacob Sinclair tapped on it.
It was a photo of her injury.
His heart clenched. But when he saw it was just her arm and nothing serious, he relaxed.
He clicked on her profile. All her previous posts had been deleted. Only this one remained.
’Deleted?’ He didn’t believe it for a second. ’She must have just hidden them.’
’What’s the point of a post like this? She knows I get notifications for her account. She’s just trying to get my attention, to fish for sympathy so I’ll be the one to go to her first.’
’Such a pathetic pity ploy... How boring.’
Jacob Sinclair’s expression turned cold as he locked his phone screen.
She had defied him time and again, testing his limits. ’And now she thinks playing the victim will make me soften and come back to her?’
’Heh. Claire Kendall, you really think too highly of yourself.’
Inside the hospital room.
After Miles Warren left, Rosalind Linden walked in, a practiced smile on her face.
"Ms. Kendall, I’m so grateful that you took a knife for Miles. But next time you do something like that, you should probably consider if you’re up to the task."
Claire Kendall shot her a lazy glance, not even bothering to look her full in the face, and replied nonchalantly.
"If anyone should be thanking me, it’s Miles. Who are you to thank me on his behalf, Dr. Linden?"
"We were classmates abroad for four years. Studying medicine together in a foreign country forges a bond stronger than gold. That friendship alone is deeper than what he has with most people."
Rosalind Linden sighed softly. "Ms. Kendall, I take it you don’t know why Miles went abroad?"
She paused, pointedly watching Claire Kendall’s reaction.
"It’s because he could never let go of someone—the one he never got over."
"And? You’ve been beating around the bush, Ms. Linden. What is it you’re trying to say?"
"I’m just trying to remind you, Ms. Kendall, that even if you take a knife for Miles, even if you’re always by his side, even if he gets together with you—from start to finish, you’ll never be anything more than a substitute. Is that really what you want?"
"Whether I’m a substitute or not is my business. Some people would kill to be one, but they just don’t have what it takes."
Claire Kendall’s words were razor-sharp.
"Ms. Linden, don’t tell me you’re jealous of this face?"
"You..." Rosalind Linden faltered, stunned into silence by the comeback.
But she quickly composed herself, certain that Claire Kendall still didn’t know the truth about "the one he never got over."
Suddenly, Claire Kendall’s gaze flickered toward the doorway, and her expression changed in an instant.
The sharp-tongued defiance and provocation vanished without a trace.
She became frail and vulnerable, her voice trembling.
"Dr. Linden, I understand what you mean now. I’ll behave, and I’ll try to stay away from Dr. Warren. Please don’t be angry..."
Rosalind Linden was taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor.
She frowned. "What on earth are you talking about?"
Before the words were even out of her mouth, the door was pushed open.
Miles Warren walked in with a lab report, his expression dark.
"Dr. Linden. She’s with me. Since when were there rules she had to follow?"
Rosalind Linden’s heart skipped a beat. She quickly tried to explain.
"Miles, you’ve misunderstood. I was just visiting Ms. Kendall. She was hurt because of you; I couldn’t be more grateful."
"It’s just that this is a hospital, and people talk. You’re here with her all day... rumors could start. It wouldn’t be good for Ms. Kendall’s reputation. It could easily cause a misunderstanding..."
"A misunderstanding about what? My affairs are none of Dr. Linden’s business, and I don’t need you to tell me what to do."
He glanced at Claire Kendall’s "poor, bullied" act, and his tone grew even colder.
"From now on, unless it’s medically necessary, you don’t need to check on this room, Dr. Linden."
The color drained from Rosalind Linden’s face, which flushed red then turned pale. She struggled to maintain her last shred of composure.
"Then I won’t disturb you. Please get some rest, Ms. Kendall."
She practically fled. Miles Warren had never, ever treated her with such cold indifference.
Quiet returned to the hospital room.
Miles Warren’s gaze landed on Claire Kendall’s fluffy head, which was still trembling slightly. After two seconds of silence, he spoke.
"Done with your act?"
Claire Kendall wondered, ’Is my acting that bad, or is Miles just too perceptive?’
She looked up, a hint of chagrin on her face at having been found out.
"You don’t like her?"
Claire Kendall nodded. "Not at all."
"Okay." He didn’t argue. "If you don’t like her, just ignore her from now on."
"Your vitals are normal. Once the wound has healed, you can be discharged."
"I have a meeting soon, so I’ll be busy for a bit. I’ll take you to the cafeteria for dinner later."
An office on the third floor of the hospital.
Rosalind Linden pushed the door open. "Miles, I still think we need to talk about Claire Kendall..."
Miles Warren frowned but didn’t speak, a flicker of impatience in his eyes.
"Claire Kendall’s mother has severe renal failure. A suitable kidney donor is incredibly hard to find, the waitlist is long, and the costs are exorbitant."
She stared fixedly into Miles Warren’s eyes, speaking each word with deliberate weight.
"And you have the ability and the resources to find one."
"Miles, wake up! Do you really think she suddenly got close to you, manufactured an opportunity to stay by your side, and even took a knife for you just because she likes you?"