Rebirth Into My Second Chance

I didn't press Max why he was blushing. Instead, I helped him get comfortable in bed and tucked him in snugly.

"Text me if you need anything. I'm heading back to my office now." As the words left my mouth, I couldn't help but frown, realizing we only had each other's phone numbers and hadn't connected on any social apps yet.

I pulled out my phone saying, "Here, add me on WhatsApp."

Max furrowed his brow, staring at my phone before reluctantly adding me to his device.

But as I was about to put my phone away, I heard, "You've received a payment of $50,000."

Wait, what? I finally realized I'd mistakenly shown him my PayPal account. I thought, 'No wonder he looks so baffled. Am I inadvertently taking advantage of his illness to rob him blind? And is Max always this generous? Even if I've made a mistake, a few hundred dollars would have sufficed, but $50,000? Do ordinary surgeons even make that kind of money?'

At least I wouldn't have to worry about financial issues if I focused on my career, especially since Claude had threatened to cut off all my cards.

While my mind raced with these thoughts, Max's frown deepened. "Not enough?"

"No, it's not that. I meant to ask you to add me on WhatsApp, not to pay me. Let's try this again. I'll return the money to you."This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

I bent slightly and confirmed I was showing him the correct account to connect as friends.

After successfully adding each other on social media, I was about to transfer the money back when he spoke in a deep voice, "You don't need to return it. Consider it hush money. Don't speak of my injury to anyone."

I couldn't hide my confusion but insisted on returning the money. "Your secret is safe with me, Dr. Hilton. Consider teaching me more in surgery as payment."

With that, I waved goodbye and left his office. Just outside, I noticed a man in a black baseball cap quickly turning a corner.

Given my past experiences and knowing Max wanted to keep his injury under wraps, I decided to head

back to his office and crash on his couch for the night.

Settling on the couch, I sent Max a message. [I'll crash here on your couch tonight. Call if you need anything.]

After sending the text, I checked his profile. It was a picture of the ocean with no posts. It seemed he wasn't one for social media.

Neither was Claude. Kate posted on

social

alled today, saying, [Spent

all day making soup for Claude and then boom, spilled it everywhere. Sooooo sad.]

The comments were from Claude's close friends, including one from Carl, who praised Kate as the ideal woman.

I liked the post and commented, [Yeah, and it spilled all over my hand. Hurt quite a bit.]

In less than a minute, when I checked back, Kate had deleted the post. She must have been worried Gabrielle would see it.

And right on cue, Gabrielle did see my comment. My phone rang just then.

I answered, trying to keep my voice down so as not to disturb Max, "Mrs. Hart, why are you up so late?"

But as I spoke, my phone slipped from my grasp, hitting the speaker button as it fell.

Gabrielle's worried voice came

through. "Claire, did Kate's soup burn you? Is it bad? Did Kate do it on purpose? I'm coming over right now."