Chapter 833
“Pfft-“
Claire completely lost her composure and burst into laughter.
“Ophelia, where on earth did you get the idea that Caleb is dying?”
She had no clue how Caleb had framed their conversation last night to make his wife jump to such an apocalyptic conclusion.
“If he wasn’t knocking on death’s door, why would he suddenly care about preserving his health?” Ophelia demanded, though seeing Claire’s sheer amusement made her realize she might have severely miscalculated.
But if Caleb wasn’t hiding some catastrophic illness, why was he acting like a man drafting his final will and testament?
“How exactly is he preserving his health?” Claire asked, genuinely curious.
“He literally forced himself into bed at ten o’clock. Then he told me he was dumping all his corporate duties to take me to live in Montara for a while.”
“The man is a psychotic workaholic! He’s the kind of guy who hosts board meetings on a laptop while hooked up to an IV drip in the ER. How could he just drop everything overnight?”
“Unless he contracted some incurable terminal illness, there is zero logical explanation for this.”
Ophelia’s terror was entirely genuine; she hadn’t slept a wink the night before.
If he really had a terminal disease, they needed to be consulting top oncologists, not booking a tropical getaway.
She desperately wanted her husband to live a long, healthy life.
Neither of their boys were even married yet.
Was Caleb really going to die before seeing his kids walk down the aisle or holding his grandchildren?
Claire’s expression shifted into something highly complicated.
“Ophelia… is it remotely possible that Caleb genuinely just wants to take a break and get his health back on track?”
“And, you know, actually spend time with you?”
It had absolutely nothing to do with a terminal illness.
“Impossible,” Ophelia shot back without hesitation. It was just too out of character.
If it had been Bishop, maybe she’d believe it.
“Wow, you really have zero faith in your husband,” Claire teased. “But even if you don’t believe him, you have to trust my medical expertise. My diagnostics are flawless. If I say it’s not a terminal illness, it’s not.”
“He just has a few minor wear-and-tear issues. A couple of months of solid rest and he’ll be as good as new.”
“He isn’t a young guy anymore. After decades of non-stop grinding, wanting to enjoy an early retirement is perfectly normal.”
Ophelia remained highly skeptical. It wasn’t that she doubted Claire’s skills; she just knew her husband too damn well.
So, the second Claire left the house, she cornered Caleb and demanded he go to the hospital for a comprehensive, full-body MRI.
“Ophelia, I swear on my life, I’m fine. And yes, I’m taking a vacation, but I still have to go into the office today to sort things out.”
“Look, I’ll have my assistant clear my schedule. I promise I’ll squeeze in a full medical exam before the week is out.”
Seeing that he didn’t fight the hospital visit, Ophelia finally let out a shaky breath of relief.
“Fine. No excuses, Caleb. Get it done as soon as physically possible.”
Caleb agreed, kissed her goodbye, and only dared to dial his niece’s number once he was safely inside his executive office.
At that exact moment, Claire was walking into the headquarters of Owen’s newly launched start-up.
The company had already scaled impressively, establishing a
l.ne
state-of-the-art R&D lab, and the very first batch of their proprietary scar cream was currently in clinical trials.
The test subjects spanned every demographic imaginable-men, women teenagers, and the elderly, bearing everything from fresh surgical incisions to decades-old ketoids.
Overall, Claire was thrilled with the progress.
Owen had clearly inherited the Churchill family’s cutthroat business acumen; his strategic planning was flawless.
She literally didn’t have to worry about a single operational detail.
Owen was equally smug about his insane efficiency, animatedly pitching his progress to Claire.
“We have hyper-detailed medical logs for every single participant. Want to review the files?”
Claire was already supremely confident in her formula.
“Hold that thought. I need to take this call.”
“Caleb?” Claire answered, stepping aside.
“Claire, did Ophelia grill you this morning? You didn’t accidentally slip up, did you?”
Claire instantly knew exactly what he was sweating about.
Remembering Ophelia’s wild
conspiracy theory, she smirked. “Oh, she interrogated me alright. My lips are sealed, but honestly? She came up with her own spectacular misunderstanding.”