Chapter 19

The past weeks had drained Isaac, leaving him running on barely four hours of sleep from the night before.Events like this hardly seemed worth his time.

Reading his mood, the assistant simply replied, "Understood. I'll let them know."

Roughly an hour later, Verena's car rolled up to the venue.

The restaurant radiated charm-every corner was dressed in elegance, with subtle touches of romance that softened the air.

A waiter greeted her at the entrance and led her toward a secluded private room.

Pausing at the door, he knocked, and then pushed it open with a polite announcement."Mr. Bennett,your guest has arrived."

Verena stepped inside, and the door closed quietly behind her.

From his wheelchair, Isaac's gaze followed her every step.

Her white dress brushed her ankles, a camel shawl resting gently on her shoulders, while her hair spilled down her back likea glossy waterfall.

There were no designer tags or ostentatious brands on her, yet she carried herself with a presence that made society's most polished women seem ordinary. The old saying came to mind-true elegance was born from beauty, figure, and poise. She possessed all three in abundance.

For the briefest moment, something familiar stirred in Isaac's mind... but before he could pin it down, the feeling slipped away.

Seeing Isaac's gaze fixed on her, Verena smiled warmly and greeted him, "Mr. Bennett, it's been a while."

That smile of hers hit him harder than expected, and for a fleeting second, Isaac felt like a thief caught in the act of staring. Inclining his head, he said evenly, "Please, take a seat, Miss Willis."

Verena didn't bother with pleasantries. She sat down and spoke with clarity. "I've reviewed every detaii of your medical records. It's not as severe as it seems. Just set a date, and we can start treatment."

His fingers tightened slightly on the armrest before he asked, "You're the first doctor to sound this certain.Are you absolutely sure?"

She could tell his doubt wasn't directed at her, but at the disappointment he'd endured. Hope was a fragile thing for someone who had been let down too many times.

Leaning forward, she laced her fingers beneath her chin and met his eyes. "You told me you'd trust me. So why hesitate now?"

Her voice carried a gentle lilt, almost coaxing.

Isaac blinked, his gaze sliding away as though her eyes were too much to hold.

Her lips curved in amusement. "What's wrong? Do you truly not believe me?"

His head lifted instinctively, only to find her watching him with a brightness that seemed to outshine the rest of the room. He turned away almost instantly.

After a short pause, his voice dropped to a quiet, "Sorry."

Something about his own reaction unsettled him. Other women never rattled his composure, yet around Verena, the steady ground he stood on felt uncertain-like he was in unfamiliar territory with no map to guide him.

Catching the way he avoided her gaze, Verena remained silent for a moment, and then let out a soft,playful laugh.

Isaac's eyes lifted toward her, catching the curve of her smile.

A faint crease formed between his brows. "You..."

"What's with the solemn face, Mr. Bennett?" she asked, her tone light. The sound of her laughter held an unfamiliar warmth, so unlike her usual composed reserve, carrying an ease that felt almost inviting.

Realizing she was poking fun at him, Isaac's lips curved in a faint, reluctant smile.

When the waiter arrived with their food, the mood shifted into something more casual, their conversation flowing lightly.

Isaac kept his answers brief, letting Verena guide most of the exchange.

They hadn't gotten far when the waiter, stepping back after setting down a plate, accidentally brushed the edge of the thin blanket over Isaac's knees with the walkie-talkie clipped to his pocket, sending it tumbling to the floor.

The man immediately murmured an apology, but Verena was already on her feet. "Don't worry about it, 1'lI handle it," she said quickly.

Isaac's gaze followed her as she bent to retrieve it and walked toward him, a subtle frown crossing his face.

Knowing Isaac cared about cleanliness, Verena had stopped the waiter's intention to pick up the blanket and put it back on his legs.

She shook out the blanket neatly and set it on the chair beside him, her movements smooth and deliberate.

Isaac had just opened his mouth to refuse when Verena knelt gracefully at his side.

Without a word, she slipped the shaw from her shoulders and spread it carefully across his legs,her fingertips lingering as she smoothed the fabric, grazing his thighs in fleeting touches.

He, however, felt no sensation in his legs-only a strange mix of unease and familiarity as he studied her closeness. Why did it feelas though this level of tenderness belonged to a deeper bond? Was it merely because she was his future wife?

"This blanket is far too thin. Make sure you swap it for something warmer when you're home," Verena murmured.

When he looked up again, she was back in her seat, the table between them once more. His eyes drifted toward her hands, and his voice came quietly. "Thanks."

Her gaze swept over him, a faint crease forming on her brow. "Why's your face suddenly flushed?"

That made him blink, caught off guard.

She ddn't look away, noting the warm tint across his cheeks and the slight haze clouding his eyes.

Rising, Verena stepped to his side, gently pushing back his hair to rest her palm against his forehead.

As she leaned in to check his temperature, her body closed the space between them.

Isaac's spine went rigid as a faint, soothing fragrance drifted into his senses, his line of sight now framed by her flawless features.

A sharp thud of awareness struck his chest.

Lowering his gaze, he felt his pulse quicken beyond reason.

Without the shawl on her shoulders now, the elegance of her silhouette beneath the snug knit dress became more obvious.

A knot formed in his throat, and he almost turned away-until her firm voice cut in, "Stay still."

Though her tone carried an edge, it oddly wrapped him in a sense of comfort.

Isaac's head dipped instinctively, eyes closing as his fingers clamped hard around the wheelchair's armrests.

"You're running a fever," Verena murmured with a slight frown, pressing the call button on the table.

She had assumed his flushed face was from embarrassment, but clearly, it wasn't.

A waiter appeared moments later.

With calm politeness, she suggested, "Please bring some fever medicine."

The server nodded and departed without delay. When the medicine arrived, she scanned the instructions, poured a glass of water, and extended both toward him. "Here, take these."

"Thank you." Isaac studied the pills inhis palm before asking quietly, "Why do you..."

The question hovered on his tongue-why did she care about him so much?

Halfway through forming the words, his gaze locked with the lively light in Verena's eyes. A quiet chuckle escaped him, and he gave a small shake of his head. "Forget it."

After he swallowed the pills, she leaned back slightly and asked, "Have you decided on the hospital for the operation? Once we finish the first stage of treatment, surgery will still be necessary."