Fiancé Cheated... So I Took His Rival’s Deal - Chapter 15: Chapter 15
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Noel froze for two heartbeats before letting out a low, amused chuckle, tugging at his tie. "She tried to bluff me with a fake resignation. Bet she didn't see me actually verifying with HR coming."
"Wait—so Ms. Bateman never actually quit? She just... made that up?" Tyrell asked, eyebrows shooting up.
"What else would it be?" Noel scoffed. "Classic attention-grab."
Internally, he smirked. Well, mission accomplished. Now she's got my full attention. Playing hard to get—Camila's getting dangerously good at this game.
The sarcasm twisting his lips didn't quite mask the relief warming his chest. So she isn't really leaving me after all.
Tyrell, ever the diplomat, smoothly suggested, "If she's not serious about walking away, maybe you should take the high road and patch things up?"
"Me? Patch things up with her?" Noel's icy glare could've frozen lava. "She throws attitude and I'm supposed to come crawling? You hit your head or something?"
"Sir, keeping this feud going with Ms. Bateman isn't helping anyone," Tyrell muttered, eyes dropping to his shoes. "The whole office has been walking on eggshells for—" He instantly shut up under Noel's murderous look.
Noel snapped his fingers. "Call her. Tell her to get her ass back to work."
Tyrell winced. "Mr. Anderson... you do remember she blocked all your numbers, right?"
Noel's jaw clenched.
Meanwhile, post-acupuncture, Andreas insisted Camila get scans—but thanks to Johnathon's VIP connections, everything happened at lightning speed.
As Camila entered radiology, Johnathon waited just outside the door. Having him there—walking her in, lingering nearby—quietly dissolved the anxiety that had been eating at her all morning.
The scan flew by, and soon Johnathon was guiding her back, films in hand. Before entering his office, Camila caught the nameplate: Cardiothoracic Surgeon—Dr. Johnathon Hemming. Even his ID photo looked unfairly handsome—same sharp features, same ridiculously perfect bone structure.
Compared to the hospital's usual lineup of balding, middle-aged doctors, Johnathon might as well have been from another planet. Camila mentally added to her assessment: Dr. Hemming—stupidly attractive and unexpectedly kind.
Adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses, Johnathon studied the scans with laser focus before softening his tone. "Bones look clean—no fractures. But when you initially got hurt, there was periosteum trauma."
"That's why the swelling lingered. You probably overused it during recovery too, hence the stiffness. Nothing critical though."
"With Dr. Quilter's acupuncture, you'll see improvement in three to four weeks. Movements will feel smoother—less strain."
It was like he'd witnessed her entire injury timeline firsthand. Camila blinked, impressed. "Wait, since when do heart surgeons moonlight as orthopedists?" The question slipped out before she could stop it.
Johnathon didn't miss a beat, deadpanning: "I'm multitalented."
Camila nearly choked on air.
By checkout time, noon sunlight streamed through hospital windows. Camila offered to buy Johnathon lunch as thanks, but with his shift still ongoing, they settled for exchanging contacts—"Rain check," he'd said with that faint smile.
Almost home, her phone buzzed. Jasmine's name flashed, demanding appointment details. Camila gave the play-by-play, only for Jasmine to squeal: "This is fate! Randomly meeting him at a hospital? Textbook rom-com meet-cute!"
"God, don't." Camila groaned. "That's enough to give me secondhand embarrassment."
"Wait—so Ms. Bateman never actually quit? She just... made that up?" Tyrell asked, eyebrows shooting up.
"What else would it be?" Noel scoffed. "Classic attention-grab."
Internally, he smirked. Well, mission accomplished. Now she's got my full attention. Playing hard to get—Camila's getting dangerously good at this game.
The sarcasm twisting his lips didn't quite mask the relief warming his chest. So she isn't really leaving me after all.
Tyrell, ever the diplomat, smoothly suggested, "If she's not serious about walking away, maybe you should take the high road and patch things up?"
"Me? Patch things up with her?" Noel's icy glare could've frozen lava. "She throws attitude and I'm supposed to come crawling? You hit your head or something?"
"Sir, keeping this feud going with Ms. Bateman isn't helping anyone," Tyrell muttered, eyes dropping to his shoes. "The whole office has been walking on eggshells for—" He instantly shut up under Noel's murderous look.
Noel snapped his fingers. "Call her. Tell her to get her ass back to work."
Tyrell winced. "Mr. Anderson... you do remember she blocked all your numbers, right?"
Noel's jaw clenched.
Meanwhile, post-acupuncture, Andreas insisted Camila get scans—but thanks to Johnathon's VIP connections, everything happened at lightning speed.
As Camila entered radiology, Johnathon waited just outside the door. Having him there—walking her in, lingering nearby—quietly dissolved the anxiety that had been eating at her all morning.
The scan flew by, and soon Johnathon was guiding her back, films in hand. Before entering his office, Camila caught the nameplate: Cardiothoracic Surgeon—Dr. Johnathon Hemming. Even his ID photo looked unfairly handsome—same sharp features, same ridiculously perfect bone structure.
Compared to the hospital's usual lineup of balding, middle-aged doctors, Johnathon might as well have been from another planet. Camila mentally added to her assessment: Dr. Hemming—stupidly attractive and unexpectedly kind.
Adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses, Johnathon studied the scans with laser focus before softening his tone. "Bones look clean—no fractures. But when you initially got hurt, there was periosteum trauma."
"That's why the swelling lingered. You probably overused it during recovery too, hence the stiffness. Nothing critical though."
"With Dr. Quilter's acupuncture, you'll see improvement in three to four weeks. Movements will feel smoother—less strain."
It was like he'd witnessed her entire injury timeline firsthand. Camila blinked, impressed. "Wait, since when do heart surgeons moonlight as orthopedists?" The question slipped out before she could stop it.
Johnathon didn't miss a beat, deadpanning: "I'm multitalented."
Camila nearly choked on air.
By checkout time, noon sunlight streamed through hospital windows. Camila offered to buy Johnathon lunch as thanks, but with his shift still ongoing, they settled for exchanging contacts—"Rain check," he'd said with that faint smile.
Almost home, her phone buzzed. Jasmine's name flashed, demanding appointment details. Camila gave the play-by-play, only for Jasmine to squeal: "This is fate! Randomly meeting him at a hospital? Textbook rom-com meet-cute!"
"God, don't." Camila groaned. "That's enough to give me secondhand embarrassment."
End of Fiancé Cheated... So I Took His Rival’s Deal Chapter 15. Continue reading Chapter 16 or return to Fiancé Cheated... So I Took His Rival’s Deal book page.