Chapter 199

Chapter 199

“Huh?” The intern was flummoxed.

Chapter 199

She hadn’t even considered it because the rumor mill at the hospital had churned out tales of Leanne’s husband being a short, balding man with a beer gut, the proverbial toad with a lily pad.

And word was they were already divorced.

Fearing Curtis would linger and blurt out something else, Leanne took a deep breath and tried to keep her voice steady and calm as she enunciated each word.

“You can leave now. More patients are waiting, so please don’t waste everyone’s time.”

Wearing a look of concern, Curtis asked her, “So, Dr. Castillo, do you think there’s a cure for my condition?”

Leanne wanted to tell him his condition was fatal and he would drop dead.

Before she could speak, Curtis added, “If there was no cure, I might need to come for more check-ups.”

Leanne bit back her frustration and shouted, “There’s no disease in this world that’s 100% incurable.”

Curtis wasn’t entirely happy with the answer, but it wasn’t a death sentence either. One percent chance was still a chance.

Though she spoke out of sheer necessity, her words were out there, and she couldn’t go. back on them.

Curtis took the hint, rising gracefully from his seat. There was a hint of reluctance as he stood up. That was the only place she seemed willing to speak to him properly.

“So, I’ll be going then?” he said.

Leanne’s eyelids lifted just enough to shoot him a glance that spelled out a word.

Scram.

Curtis clicked his tongue but left in a surprisingly good mood.

As the door shut, the confused intern approached Leanne for some solidarity.

“Dr. Castillo, you think that guy’s nuts, too, right?”

When they wrapped up the last appointment, it was past noon. Leanne massaged her shoulders as she stepped out of the clinic, only to spot a conspicuous figure sitting at the end of the hallway.

She paused mid-step and told the intern, who hadn’t noticed yet. “Go grab some lunch. I’ve

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Chapter 199

got stuff to take care of.”

The intern said without suspicion, “Okay,” and walked away.

When Curtis saw Leanne, he got up leisurely. Leanne turned and headed in the opposite direction, through the corridor and the waiting room, until she reached the secluded emergency exit on the west side. She slipped in.

Curtis followed at a relaxed pace, pushing open the door only to take a barrage of Leanne’s punches.

He neither fought back nor dodged but leaned against the wall, taking the solid beating that allowed her to vent her anger. His neatly pressed suit trousers bore the marks of her

shoes.

“Easy the

there,” he said. “You’ll hurt your hand.”

Leanne was livid. “Can’t you stop interfering with my work? I’m on the clock!”

“You won’t answer my calls, ignore my messages, and won’t talk to me. If you keep this up, I’ll go insane,” Curtis said, wrapping an arm around her waist and leaning in to coax her. “Just this once. I promise I won’t bother you at work again.”

Leanne pushed him away and stepped back. “I don’t think we have anything to discuss

other than our divorce.”

“There’s plenty,” Curtis countered. “Are you hungry? What do you want for lunch? Did anything interesting happen at work today, and do you miss me?”

Fuming, Leanne retorted, “Nope, not hungry. You’ve annoyed me enough to lose my appetite. I’ve dealt with a complete headcase, and no,

I don’t miss you! Happy now?”

Curtis couldn’t help but laugh at her fury. “See, you can still talk to me.”

Ignoring him, Leanne reached for the door handle.

Curtis didn’t stop her. “I ordered you lunch. It’s in your office. Even if you’re not hungry, have a little.”

He straightened up from the wall, playfully pinched, and slid his fingers across her cheek. “I have a meeting soon, so I’ll get going. I won’t bother you anymore. Don’t be mad.”

Leanne swatted his hand away and glared at him. “Keep your hands off me.”

Curtis looked down at her, then leaned back against the wall. “I’ve told you before. I find it adorable when you’re mad. If you keep glaring at me, I might just stay here and camp out, and you wouldn’t want to cry out of anger, would you?”

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