The doctors had returned to check on Xavier, but the moment they stepped into the ward, shock crossed every one of their faces. His breathing had stabilized completely, smooth and steady unlike the weak, fading pulse they had left behind hours ago.
One of the surgeons slowly turned toward Asher.
Asher merely shrugged.
Of course he wasn't about to explain what had truly happened after they had practically declared his husband dead and abandoned him. They didn't deserve that explanation.
While they continued examining Xavier, administering new drugs and checking the machines around him, Asher stood silently by the bedside, arms folded tightly across his chest. His sharp gaze never once left them, making the entire room feel suffocating.
Finally, the man in charge of the surgery sighed in annoyance.
"You're distracting us with that look. Let us do our job. This is what we are trained for."
