Chapter 173 This Is the Last Dose of Medicine
Alarm bells detonated in Alexander's mind.
Regret crashed over him instantly. What the hell had he been thinking, letting his guard slip like that?
He released her hand and covered hers where it pressed against her temple, his palm warm and steady.
"Don't think about it. It doesn't matter, Edith. I was just making conversation. It's nothing important. Stop trying to remember. Close your eyes. Rest."
Even as he spoke, his gaze cut toward Kenna hovering in the doorway.
Kenna caught the signal immediately and entered with a bowl of freshly prepared broth.
"Here, drink some of this. I made it specially for you. It'll settle your stomach and help you relax."
Alexander took the bowl, testing the temperature himself before lifting a spoonful. He blew on it carefully and brought it to Caroline's lips.
The aroma seemed to reach her through the fog of discomfort. A flicker of appetite crossed her face. The tension in her features began to ease.
She parted her lips obediently, swallowing each spoonful he offered.
The warm liquid slid down her throat and into her stomach. Her brow smoothed. Drowsiness crept over her like a tide.
By the time the bowl was empty, her eyelids were drooping.
Alexander set the bowl aside and tucked the blanket around her, watching as her breathing deepened and evened out into sleep. Only then did he allow himself a long exhale.
He rose with painstaking care, collected the empty bowl, and slipped out of the bedroom, easing the door shut behind him.
Standing alone in the empty corridor, the gentleness drained from Alexander's face like water slipping through his fingers.
He leaned back against the cold wall and closed his eyes, exhaustion carved into every line of his body.
The attending physician spotted him from downstairs and approached cautiously.
Alexander didn't look at him. His gaze remained fixed on the empty bowl in his hands. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.
"That was the last time, wasn't it?"
The doctor's chest tightened. He swallowed hard before nodding quickly.
"Yes, Mr. Hamilton. Mrs. Hamilton's pregnancy has entered a stable phase. Fetal organ development is essentially complete. But prolonged use of this medication carries potential risks. According to our original protocol, this was indeed the final dose. From here on, she'll have to rely on her own regulation, and an absolutely stable environment to maintain equilibrium."
Alexander's eyes opened slowly. "You said before that her somatization is severe. What happens after we stop the medication?"
The doctor felt his spine go cold under that stare. He swallowed hard again before finding his voice.
"Mrs. Hamilton's psychological trauma has manifested as severe somatization. The chronic vomiting, loss of appetite, insomnia, pain, the self-harm impulses—these have already transitioned from psychological symptoms to physical pathology. They can't be reversed. The hypnosis has suppressed the worst of the suffering to some degree, allowing her to function relatively normally under the Edith identity. But..."
He forced himself to meet Alexander's eyes. "Once we withdraw the medication, the pain stored in her body's memory will come roaring back. It won't endanger her or the fetus, but the process... it will be excruciating."
Just hearing the words made Alexander feel like ice water was flooding his veins.
He'd known this day was coming. But knowing and facing it were entirely different things.
"So starting tomorrow, she could experience this at any moment. And I... I can't do a damn thing except watch."
"We'll intensify psychological counseling and comfort measures. We'll create the safest, most calming environment possible and eliminate any potential triggers."
The doctor's tone was measured, professional. "Sir, your presence means everything to Mrs. Hamilton. But ultimately, whether she can weather this depends largely on her willpower, and whether her subconscious still has the strength to accept that pain. You need to prepare yourself for the worst-case scenario."
The worst-case scenario...
Alexander slowly straightened.
He looked down at the hands that had just fed her soup.
These same hands had inflicted unspeakable pain on her. And now even the barrier shielding her from that pain was about to crumble.
He lifted his gaze toward the closed door at the end of the corridor.
Behind it lay the 'paradise' he'd constructed from lies and hypnosis. The woman he'd destroyed. Their unborn child.
And he stood at the threshold of that paradise, with a tidal wave of agony closing in.
There was nowhere to run. No way to retreat.
Three days later. Afternoon.
The ocean breeze carried salt and moisture, stirring the air beneath the shade of the umbrella where they sat.
Alexander reclined in the lounger with Caroline nestled against his shoulder.
He held a book of poetry in his hands, reading aloud in a low voice—a piece about oceans and stars.
Caroline had developed a taste for his storytelling lately. Alexander was more than willing to oblige.
He'd grown accustomed to this slower rhythm of life. Even when handling company business now, the frantic edge had dulled.
It reminded him of something Caroline had once described at Ravenwood Manor—the two of them sitting on the terrace with nothing to do, feeling the breeze, drinking tea. Not needing to say anything. Just existing in a moment of peace.
This was probably the life she'd wanted for him. But every time he thought of her words, of that newly designed terrace with its wicker chairs they'd never sat in together, a dull ache bloomed in his chest.
He was living that life now. But he'd bought it with Caroline's blood and tears.
Caroline knew none of this. She lay with her eyes closed, a faint smile playing at her lips, listening quietly.
Alexander read on, monitoring her from the corner of his eye.
He could feel his nerves stretched to the breaking point.
He was terrified the doctor's prediction would come true.
For three days straight, he hadn't known a single second free from dread.
He reached a turning point in the poem, his voice softening instinctively.
"Yet when the tide recedes, what's carved into the exposed reef isn't the remains of shells, but rather..."
His voice cut off.
A split second before he stopped, the soft weight against his shoulder convulsed violently without warning.
Then he heard Caroline drag in a sharp, desperate breath from somewhere deep in her throat.
"Edith?" Alexander's heart lurched. He dropped the book immediately and turned to face her.
Her peaceful expression had twisted into something unrecognizable. Eyes squeezed shut. Brow furrowed tight. Her lashes trembled violently. The color drained from her lips like a tide pulling away.
"Nnh... ah..." Caroline let out a low, agonized moan. Her hand clutched at her chest. Her body curled inward, muscles seizing, and she began to slide from the lounger.