Rebirth Into My Second Chance

Waiting outside the police station for Max to emerge, I couldn't help but notice that acrid scent of sulfuric acid on him as he approached, triggering my gag reflex once again. He sniffed himself with a frown of displeasure.

Ronald leaned in for a sniff, too. "Still smells after three washes? I can't catch a whiff. Ms. Floyd, what kind of super nose do you have?"

For some reason, my senses were on high alert today. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, the nauseating smell etched into my very being, which was unforgettable and revolting.

"I'll wash up again," Max decided, leaving, but I started vomiting again by the side.

"It's okay. I've probably just got a bit of a stomach bug," I said.

Feeling the physical toll and the mental strain from witnessing Gabrielle's demise, Claude's indifference, and the sight of a pregnant woman's body drenched in sulfuric acid, I knew I was pushed to my breaking point. Ronald patted my back gently. "Ms. Floyd, maybe you should see a therapist. In my years of police work, it seems the trauma from when Daniel hurt you has left a deep impact."

I stopped retching to look at him. Even Ronald thought I needed professional help.

This time, Max approached and took hold of my wrist. "She's exhausted today. A bit of rest, and she'll be fine," he assured Ronald before escorting me to my car. "I'll drive. You rest."

Nodding, I was too dizzy to protest. Not long after the car started, I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up, I found myself at home with Max sitting in my living room, his long legs crossed as he focused intently on a tablet.Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

He was so engrossed that he didn't notice me until I stood beside him.

Max said, "You're awake? Richard called and wants to take you out to dinner."

He mentioned this and left, making me frown slightly. Was he there to tell me that?

As he reached the door, he suddenly turned back. "Don't drink with him."

A laugh escaped me. Max stayed to say that.

"Then come with me, and you can ensure I don't drink. Otherwise, who knows might indulge." I teased him, stepping closer and deliberately brushing against him. It was getting fun to provoke him.

In surgery, he was always so stern and detached. But in the privacy of my apartment, there seemed to be a different dynamic between us, though he never made it obvious.

I didn't expect him to suddenly pull me close pressing me against the wall with a warning look in his eyes. "Get drunk again, and it won't be as simple as carrying you home?"

With that, he let go and left without another word.

For a moment, I thought I felt something warm and hard against me. Was it my imagination?

Meeting with Richard, he couldn't stop prying. "That night, Dr. Hilton took you home. He didn't try anything, huh?"

I replied coldly, "And what about you? You got picked up by Mr. Collins, and did you let him try something on you?"