Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption-Chapter 235: Wish to see it...

The meal was a hearty one. They chatted as they ate, with Davis clearly steering the conversation away from the impending launch.

Before the meal ended, Davis made a phone call—he had arranged for a doctor to come over for a brief check-up on Jessica. Hearing this, her heart thudded with trepidation, but Davis had promised to stay with her throughout.

Though she had always resisted treatment, she couldn’t help but worry. She knew pregnancy came with symptoms —some mild, some severe, and while her expertise didn’t lie in gynecology, she understood she had to seek the attention of experts in that field.

She might have refused again, but knowing Davis, his decision was final—especially when it came to her health. No amount of pleading would change that. Sometimes, she wondered why he wasn’t strict with himself back in the day.

As Deborah came to clear the plates, Jessica stopped her.

"We’re expecting a guest. If he arrives, lead him in," she instructed.

Deborah nodded lightly and left the room.

Jessica glanced at the clock, which seemed to race forward too quickly.

"It’s just a few hours before the gala. Are you sure this will be okay?" she asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

"It doesn’t matter what hour the gala starts. You only need to be healthy, and that is the major determinant of success or failure," Davis replied firmly, his expression stern.

Jessica kept silent, her head dropping low, not meeting his gaze anymore. She was certain that any more comments in rejection of the treatment wouldn’t ogle well with him.

A knock came at the door. Jessica’s head snapped toward Davis, then toward the entrance. Her hands clenched briefly as she took a deep breath to calm herself. "It’s okay," she told herself.

Davis glanced at her, gently taking her hand.

"It seems the doctor is here. You should get the door," he said calmly and reassuringly.

Since Davis was still unable to use his legs before the public, it was only natural that she go. Slowly, she stepped off the bed and opened the door.

Deborah appeared.

"Madam, the doctor is here," she announced, stepping aside to reveal the man behind her.

A young man in his mid-thirties with handsome features and a friendly demeanor stepped forward.

"Dr. Perez," he said, extending a hand.

"Jessica," she replied, returning the handshake. After brief pleasantries, he was led inside. Davis was already seated in his wheelchair, bracing himself for the outcome.

The diagnosis didn’t take much time as Dr. Perez happened to be a veteran in the field. With the pre-information he had before coming, he came with drugs and an intravenous drip, which he administered after his diagnosis.

Throughout the process, Davis remained by Jessica’s side. She held onto him tightly, her body tensing when the needle pierced her skin, then slowly relaxing as the procedure continued. Davis chatted softly, offering comfort with every word.

Within minutes, he was done with the diagnosis and the treatment was underway. Jessica lay still, her eyes staring into space.

"Do you think this gala will go as planned?" she asked, her voice filled with quiet contemplation.

Davis’s face darkened.

"Did you even listen to what the doctor said?" he asked.

Jessica’s eyelids dropped low, her lips pouting, her voice coming out in a whisper. "I know."

"No, I don’t think you know. I think I’ll have to remind you—the diagnosis clearly mentioned your situation is a result of stress and anemia," he said with a firm note.

"But I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary," she whined.

He sat straighter, eyes locking with hers.

"Asking about the gala and the launch—doesn’t that just add more anxiety and stress to an already fragile situation?" he asked.

"Not replying to my question is more stressful than ever, because the sooner I know about them, the better for me," she smirked. Her gaze was challenging. Davis rubbed his forehead in frustration.

He wished he knew what to do to make her keep calm, even if just for these few hours she was hanging the IV. But then, he was helpless.

Seeing him quiet and unresponsive, Jessica’s smile widened. She knew she had won this round.

"I can’t really say, but I’m quite sure you’ve really done your best," he responded, pride tinged in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed by her.

"Hubby, I’m feeling sleepy. Wake me up when it’s time, okay?" she instructed.

"And if the IV isn’t done by then?" he asked gently.

"It’s my wish to see it. I believe God can grant me that one wish. But if by chance I don’t wake or the drip doesn’t finish, don’t hesitate to go without me," she said, her eyes glinting with regret.

This night was important—a significant milestone in Davis’s journey of recovery. Jessica had wanted so badly to witness it.

Davis nodded. As much as he hoped she would witness the moment with him, his rationality still preferred her total health.

The IV dripped slowly. Jessica soon drifted into a deep sleep, her breathing even, her body weak but peaceful.

With the clock ticking away very fast, Jessica was still in a deep slumber. The IV hanging on her arm not yet finished, Davis sighed deeply as he glanced at her.

As much as she wished to witness the relaunch, Davis felt sorry for her because she might not be granted that wish.

Slowly moving some strands of hair away from her perfectly sculpted face, a slow smile crept up his lips.

"Baby, it seems I will go to witness the birth of this company and be our eyes there," he mused, glancing at the fluid still dripping bit by bit, yet it seemed static. Regret flickered in his eyes.

As if on cue, Ethan rasped lightly on the door. "Sir, we have to get ready," he said as soon as the door opened. Davis glanced back at the woman on the bed and nodded.

Slowly, the door closed. He wheeled himself back to the bed, taking in every feature of her face before he stood up and went into the bath.

After a quick shower, he stepped into the walk-in closet. When he returned, he was fully dressed in a sharp black tuxedo. It fit perfectly, accentuating his tall frame and broad shoulders. He looked every inch the confident CEO.

But his face revealed mixed emotions. Calm on the surface yet his eyes betrayed deep worry.

Jessica lay quietly on the bed, the drip still connected to her arm. She looked delicate, her pale face a stark contrast to her usual vibrant self. The sight of her like that made his chest tighten with guilt.

He looked at himself again in the mirror, adjusted his cufflinks, but his mind wasn’t on the event. Everyone was waiting for him—Ethan, his friends, and the guest.

Though he wouldn’t be making an appearance, he had to be there for the event to kick off properly.

But right now, all he could think about was her. "She worked so hard for this project," he whispered, voice low.

He turned his gaze to her sleeping form and sighed, his jaw clenched in frustration. He felt guilty. She had done so much and pushed herself too far. And now, when she needed care the most, he had to leave her alone.

But then, she made it clear, "Don’t hesitate to go without me." She would want everything to go perfectly. She would rather prefer the success of the event to her hard-earned health.

He settled back in the wheelchair and returned to the bedside to wait for her to wake up.

Ethan’s knock rasped on the door again, followed by the ringing of his phone. He pulled it out, and there it was—’Alex’s call.’

He sighed deeply as he made a reluctant decision to go, but not without asking Deborah to take care of her and call him at any change.

"I’ll make it count," he said softly. "For you." He placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. Her eyelids twitched slightly but remained shut.

With one last look, he wheeled himself toward the door and pulled it open. Ethan gave him a firm nod, and took hold of the chair, guiding him out into the evening, toward the gala that would mark a new Chapter for the Allen Group.