Woke Up Engaged To My Rival

The next morning, Dr. Hamilton arrived with a team of specialists.

"Good morning, Ms. Franks," Dr. Hamilton said, shining a light into her eyes. "How is the memory today?"

"Better," Eve said cheerfully. "I remember I hate hospital food. And I remember I love him." She pointed at Charls, who was drinking coffee in the corner.

Charls choked on his coffee.

"Right," Dr. Hamilton noted something on his chart. "Ms. Franks, do you know who the President is?"

"Yes," she answered correctly.

"Do you remember when you got engaged?"

Eve paused. Her brow furrowed. "Christmas. Last year. In Aspen."

Charls looked up. Last Christmas, he had been in Dubai. Eve had been in Aspen... with Andre. She was grafting her memories of Andre onto him. He felt a flash of irritation. He wasn't just playing a role; he was a stand-in for another man in her fractured mind. A placeholder.

"Interesting," Dr. Hamilton said. "This is called confabulation. Your brain is filling in the gaps with plausible scenarios to avoid the stress of the void."

"It's not a scenario," Eve insisted, offended. "It happened. We drank hot cocoa by the fire."

She looked at Charls for confirmation. "Right, honey?"

Charls set his cup down. The plastic clattered against the table. "Sure. Cocoa."

The nurse stepped forward with a tray. "Time for your anti-inflammatory shot, Ms. Franks."

Eve saw the needle and went pale. She shrank back against the pillows.

"No," she whimpered. "I hate needles."

"It will just be a pinch," the nurse said.

"Charls!" Eve cried out. She reached her hand out blindly toward him. "Hold my hand!"

Charls hesitated. He saw the genuine fear in her eyes. The Iron Lady of Franks Enterprises was afraid of a little needle.

He walked over and took her hand.

Eve gripped it with surprising strength. Her nails dug into his palm.

"Look at me," Charls said, his voice dropping to a soothing baritone. "Don't look at the needle. Look at me."

Eve locked eyes with him. Her breathing was shallow.

"Tell me about the merger," she gasped. "Distract me."

"The merger?" Charls smirked. "You mean the one where I crushed you on the logistics bid?"

"You got lucky," Eve shot back, a spark of her old self appearing.

"Done," the nurse said.

Eve blinked. "Oh. That wasn't so bad."

She didn't let go of his hand. She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles, tracing the veins.

"Thank you, Hubby," she whispered.

Charls felt the tips of his ears burn. "Stop calling me that."

"Make me," she challenged.

Dr. Hamilton cleared his throat. "Well, the swelling is going down. If this continues, you can be discharged in two days."

"Great," Eve beamed. "Then I can go home. To our home."

Charls froze. "Our home?"

"Well, I can't go to my place," Eve said. "Silas said it's being... renovated. So I'll stay with you."

Charls looked at Huldah, who was standing by the door. Huldah gave him a thumbs up.

Charls closed his eyes. He was going to live with her. In his sanctuary. His bachelor pad.

This was going to be hell.