Hale swallowed hard. “Prepare the equipment. And… let Dr. Reynolds lead.”
Maya didn’t hesitate. For forty-eight hours, she didn’t sleep, barely ate, and stayed by Jonathan’s side. On the third morning, sunlight filled the room—and Jonathan opened his eyes.
“You,” he murmured. “You argued.”
Maya smiled tiredly. “I’m Maya. And you’re stubborn.”
His recovery was called miraculous. Maya was reinstated—not as a housekeeper, but as his personal physician. Life in the mansion shifted. They talked, argued, laughed. Boundaries blurred despite her resistance.
A month later, Brooks handed Maya a termination contract signed by Jonathan.
“You were necessary,” Brooks said smoothly. “Now you’re inconvenient.”
Heartbroken, Maya packed and left.
“Aline—Maya!” Jonathan’s voice echoed through the foyer.
He reached her, breathless. “I didn’t fire you.”
He tore the contract in half.
“When I was lost, you stayed,” he said softly. “I don’t want a doctor. I want you.”
Tears fell as she smiled. “I’ll stay. On one condition.”
“Anything.”
“We start a foundation. For young doctors without connections.”
Jonathan kissed her forehead. “Deal, Dr. Reynolds.”