The General's Replacement Doctor Wife

Chapter Eight

Olivia blankly stared at the diamond solitaire in Clayton's hand.

Everything made sense now, like pieces of a puzzle falling into place. Her parents opening up the topic of marriage at dinner and their unexpected decision to attend a birthday party, all of it hadn’t been random at all. They had planned this whole thing.

Her throat felt tight, as if a hand were squeezing it. She couldn't think properly. Couldn't speak.

Clayton kneeling on one knee, Caleb watching in shock behind her, the expectant guests, and her adoptive parents glaring because she was taking so long to answer—all hit her at once. She couldn't take the pressure, and she felt the room spin.

"Olivia? Are you okay?" Clayton's face swam in and out of focus. He got up, his voice sounding far away, as if he were calling to her from underwater. She tried to draw in air, but her lungs wouldn't cooperate.

"Olivia, oh my God, you're paperwhite!" Caleb's concerned voice reached her ears, but she couldn't bring herself to respond.

She pressed her hands against her temples, trying to steady herself. But the faces around her blurred into indistinct shapes. It was all too much for her. The last thing she heard was the sound of hurried footsteps rushing in her direction. She fell into someone's arms before darkness closed in around her.

—

Olivia's eyelids fluttered open to unfamiliar surroundings, her vision gradually adjusting to the warm ceiling light. The unmistakable manly scent hit her nostrils. The picture frame on the wall, showing Clayton in his military uniform, confirmed this was his room.

The soft click of heels against the floor drew her attention. Olivia lifted her head and blinked rapidly at the woman standing at the side of the room. She was beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful.

The woman approached the bed with effortless elegance, her midnight hair falling in perfect waves around her gentle face. "Thank goodness you're awake," she spoke, giving her a glass of water. "We were all so worried. The doctor who checked you said you collapsed from exhaustion."

Olivia accepted the water gratefully and immediately emptied her glass; the water had never tasted this good as it slid down her throat. "Thank you," she managed, studying the woman's features. The resemblance was striking, with the same high cheekbones and naturally red cupid’s lips. She looked so much like Clayton, but it was her eyes—one green and one brown—that caught Olivia's attention.

"I'm sorry, but... are you Clayton's sister?" The words slipped out before she could stop herself.

The woman's lips curved into a smile. Color crept to her cheeks. "I'm Lily Bradford, Clayton's mother. Though I must admit, being mistaken for his sister is quite flattering."

The glass nearly slipped from Olivia's grasp. This elegant woman is Clayton's mother? She looked barely forty. She must have found the fountain of youth.

"You’ve exhausted yourself too much. The doctor said you need to have a long rest.” The concern in the woman's voice was genuine.

“It's been really stressful at work,” Olivia admitted. With this woman, she felt like she could share the stupidest and craziest things and still be understood. “There are patients left and right who need surgery. We can rest after a long, exhausting day at work, but for the patients, they are running out of time, so we have to prioritize them.”

Lily carefully took the water glass and set it aside. "Oh, sweetheart.” She pulled Olivia into a hug, and in that moment, Olivia realized just how badly she needed that motherly love. For the first time in her life, she tasted that heaven and would remember it for the rest of her life.