Chapter 961

Chapter 967:
Anesthesia had pulled her into sleep. It dawned on him that this could be his last chance to be close to her.
Thus, he leaned in, bestowing a kiss on her lips.
Resolute, he turned and departed.
He couldn’t remain, as every passing second weighed on him, threatening to undermine his determination. Staying would only sow seeds of uncertainty. Though he longed to linger, he knew the danger it posed.
He felt a semblance of contentment, seeing her well and secure.
He quickened his pace, distancing himself from St. Peter Hospital.
The next day, when Candice awoke, she found herself in a special care unit at Harmony Hospital, nestled on the uppermost floor. This was a VIP haven under the direct aegis of the hospital’s director. Opulent woodwork, leather sofas, and soft drapery lent it the air of an apartment rather than a clinical ward.
Her eyes fluttered open, greeted by a radiant sunbeam filtering through parted curtains. It seemed like it was noon. Weariness clung to her, but an ineffable relief coursed through her, each breath now a balm.
The sequence of events leading to this remained elusive.
Greyson occupied a sofa, waiting for her to wake up. He rose at the rustle of her awakening and rushed to her side.
Fragmented memories emerged: the grand hall of the Orlanduer Hotel, a night of discomfort and breathlessness, followed by an abyss of unconsciousness. Beyond that, her memory was a void.
“How do you feel now?” Greyson held her hands and asked with concern.
“Why am I here? What happened?” Candice asked in a raspy voice.
She attempted to sit up but suddenly felt a sharp pain in her chest. It wasn’t emotional anguish, but rather a sensation akin to her wound tearing.
Seeing this, Greyson promptly placed a hand on her shoulder.
𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖎𝖓 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖊: ⳑ𝗮𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⧼ⅽ𝗈𝗺
“Don’t move. You fainted in the Orlanda Hotel hallway last night. I had been waiting for you there until I saw you collapse. You’ve just had heart surgery. They administered pain relief, so you shouldn’t be in too much pain. Your incision has been stitched. Be careful not to reopen it.”
Candice’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Heart surgery?!”
She murmured, “I fainted? I remember struggling to breathe and then passing out. Wasn’t it due to my PTSD?” Greyson shook his head while explaining.
“No. We had been misinterpreting the symptoms of PTSD. Though you do have PTSD, those episodes of breathlessness and palpitations you experienced weren’t primarily because of PTSD. Contrarily, they were largely due to your congenital heart disease.”
Candice was taken aback. “I have a congenital heart disease? How did I not know about this?”
“Your congenital heart disease isn’t life-threatening. It’s essentially a heart valve insufficiency. If it had been discovered early, a straightforward procedure could have fixed it. The problem was that since your PTSD developed, the symptoms were strikingly similar to those of congenital heart disease. So, you remained unaware of it, and it exacerbated your heart condition. Until now, you nearly…”
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