Why did this whole scenario still feel incredibly suspicious?
"I study both traditional and modern medicine. Your family mentioned you've been actively resisting treatment, refusing hospital visits, and chasing off every specialist they send."
Claire was never one to sugarcoat things.
Since she was being so blunt, Ewan matched her energy.
"Dr. Claire, don't you think trying to treat a condition like mine is just a massive waste of time?"
Claire let out a dry laugh. "Who gave you that terminal diagnosis? Yourself?"
Ewan choked on his words. She wasn't wrong-he was the one who had thrown in the towel.
Once the hospital declared his spine beyond repair, stating his only chance of
standing involved double amputation and prosthetics, he had shut down completely.
If he could never walk on his own two legs again, why drag out the agony?
"Are you incredibly busy?" Claire pressed when he remained silent.
He wasn't. Not at all.
In fact, he had absolutely nothing but free time. After his heroic rescue cost him his legs, his cadet career was over, and he had formally withdrawn from the academy.
He had zero intentions of ever returning to a classroom.
A cripple dreaming of the military was a pathetic joke.
Unless, of course, he wanted to pivot to a desk job in tech.
But even then, he wasn't exactly a tech genius, and no division was eager to recruit a liability.
He hadn't hesitated when he jumped in to save that life; it wasn't just blind impulse.
He didn't regret the sacrifice, but being permanently grounded had stripped away his entire future.
"Busy with what? I literally do nothing." Ewan glared, wondering if she was intentionally mocking him.
Look at him—what could he possibly have on his schedule?
"If you aren't busy, then why refuse treatment?"
"Time is the one thing you have an endless supply of right now. How is it a waste?"
Annoyingly, she had a rock-solid point.
Ewan fell silent.
"Are you going to let me inside? If not, I'm leaving."
"Unlike you, I actually despise wasting my time."
Ewan let out a self-deprecating chuckle. Fair enough. She was a fully functioning person with a real life; she had far better things to do.
"If you want to spend the rest of your life rotting away in this chair, by all means, keep rejecting help."
"Your family is loaded anyway. It's not like they can't afford to fund your self-pity."
"And if you never marry, that's fine
too. You have siblings, right? I'm
sure your nieces and nep
nèt
will
be thrilled to spoon-feed you when you're older."
"I..." Ewan tried to snap back. Of course he wasn't going to burden his siblings' kids!
He was perfectly capable of managing on his own.
"Sure, you can manage now. But when your parents and grandfather pass away and there's no one left to check on you, are you certain you'll survive?"
"Even if you do, can you guarantee the caregivers you hire won't take advantage of a helpless paraplegic?"
"I've read plenty of stories about isolated invalids being terrorized by their private nurses."
"They control when you eat, when
you sleep, and when you get cleaned. They keep you barely alive while they throw parties in your house, crash your cars, and drain your bank accounts."
"They'll be living the absolute dream on your dime."
Ewan was practically shaking with rage, fiercely swearing to himself that he would
never let it come to that.
But who could predict the future?
Just because he said it wouldn't happen, did that make him immune?
"It's just a tragic shame for your
parents. They'll spend their lives building a nest egg to protect you, for it to fund som
only
stranger's
luxury lifestyle while their own son
suffers."
FindNovel.net
Claire let out a soft, theatrical sigh, making her grim hypothetical feel terrifyingly
real.
The very thought made Ewan sick to his stomach.
"Are you just trying to manipulate me into getting married and having kids?"
Claire rolled her eyes. "Why would I care about your love life? I'm asking if you want me to treat your legs."