Ethan left the penthouse hurriedly, his crutches clicking against the polished floor. His limp was more pronounced today, a painful reminder of the toll his condition was taking on him. As he moved to the door, he glanced back at Ivy, who stood watching him with concern.

"I'll see you at the office," she said softly.

Ethan gave a curt nod and left, his mind already shifting to the impending confrontation with Thomas Bennett. The car ride felt endless, the anticipation of dealing with Thomas's fury gnawing at him. Thomas Bennett was not a man who took kindly to delays or setbacks, and his wife's latest legal maneuver had thrown him into a rage.

The ride to the office felt longer than usual, and Ethan's thoughts were a whirlwind of the chaos that awaited him. Thomas Bennett was a high-profile client with a volatile temper, and Ethan knew he had to be sharp and composed to handle the situation. He pushed thoughts of his own pain and fatigue aside, focusing on the task at hand.

As soon as he stepped into the office, Ethan could sense the tension. The staff were on edge, and hushed whispers filled the air. Cheryl met him at the entrance, her face tight with concern.

"He's in the conference room, Ethan. He's been shouting non-stop since he arrived," she informed him.

Ethan nodded, steeling himself for what lay ahead. He made his way to the conference room, each step sending a jolt of pain through his leg. The door swung open to reveal Thomas Bennett pacing back and forth, his face flushed with anger. The air was thick with tension, and the scattered documents on the table bore testament to his agitation.

"Ethan, finally!" Thomas's voice was a mixture of relief and frustration. "Do you have any idea what that woman is trying to do? She's making outrageous claims that could ruin me!"

Ethan moved to the table, leaning on his crutches for support. "Thomas, I understand you're upset, but shouting won't solve anything. We need to address this calmly and strategically."

Thomas glared at him; his anger barely contained. "I didn't hire you to tell me to calm down, Ethan. I hired you to fight back. I want this dealt with immediately."

Ethan took a deep breath, pushing aside his own discomfort. "And we will handle it, Thomas. But we need to be smart about it."

Thomas threw his hands up in frustration. "I don't need rationality, Ethan! I need action! I need this dealt with immediately. I hired you because you're the best, so prove it!"

Ethan felt a wave of nausea but pushed it down, focusing on the papers. "I assure you, Thomas, we will handle this. But we need to be strategic. Knee-jerk reactions will only make things worse."

He spent the next hour meticulously reviewing the documents, highlighting the weaknesses in the claims made by Thomas's wife. He outlined a counterstrategy, speaking with the confidence and authority that had earned him his reputation.

Gradually, Thomas's fury began to subside, replaced by a focused determination. Ethan's plan was solid, and despite his initial outburst, Thomas trusted Ethan's judgment.

"We'll need to gather additional data and prepare for a robust defense," Ethan said, his tone resolute. "I'll coordinate with the team to ensure everything is covered. We'll keep you updated on our progress. Trust that we have this under control."

Thomas sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Alright, Ethan. I trust you. Just make sure this doesn't blow up any further."

Ethan assured him once more before Thomas left, still tense but less volatile than before. As the door closed, Ethan allowed himself a moment to breathe. The pain in his leg throbbed, but he couldn't afford to show weakness.

As Ethan stepped out of the conference room, he was met by Ivy, her face etched with concern. She noticed the strain in his posture, the way he leaned heavily on his crutches.

"Ethan, are you alright?" she asked softly, her eyes searching his face for any sign of his true feelings.

"I'm fine," he replied curtly, though he appreciated her concern. "I have work to do."

Ivy hesitated, wanting to say more but knowing better than to push him when he was in this state. She nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to pass.

Ethan moved towards his office, each step a reminder of the relentless pain he was enduring. He pushed open the door and settled into his chair, grateful for the brief respite. He knew he couldn't afford to let his guard down, not now, not ever.

His thoughts were interrupted by Cheryl, who entered the room with a stack of files. "Ethan, these need your immediate attention," she said, placing them on his desk.

He glanced at the files, then back at Cheryl. "Thank you. I'll get to them right away."

Cheryl lingered for a moment, her expression unreadable. "Ethan, if you need anything—"

"I'll let you know," he cut her off, his tone firm but not unkind. He knew his team was worried about him, but he couldn't afford to show any weakness.

As Cheryl left, Ethan leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. The pain in his leg was a constant, throbbing reminder of his battle, but he pushed it aside. There was too much at stake to let it slow him down.

He opened the first file and began to work, his focus unwavering. Hours passed, and the office slowly emptied as the day drew to a close. Yet Ethan remained, determined to stay ahead of the challenges that lay ahead.

As he finally finished the last file, he allowed himself a moment to rest. His thoughts drifted to Ivy, her concern for him a small comfort in the midst of his turmoil. He knew he couldn't let her in, couldn't show her the depths of his struggle. But her presence, her quiet support, was a reminder that he wasn't entirely alone.

Ethan stood up, grabbing his crutches. He made his way to the window, looking out at the city lights. The road ahead was long and filled with uncertainty, but he was determined to face it head-on. For himself, for his clients, and maybe, just maybe, for Ivy.

As he turned back to his desk, ready to call it a night, he couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get even more complicated. But whatever came his way, he would be ready. He had to be.

The next morning, Ethan arrived at the office early, determined to get ahead of the day's challenges. The lingering pain from his leg was a constant companion, but he had learned to manage it, to push it to the back of his mind where it couldn't interfere with his work.

He was reviewing the notes from the previous day's meeting with Thomas Bennett when his phone buzzed. It was a text from Ivy.

Ivy: Good morning, Ethan. Just wanted to check if you need anything before the day starts.

Ethan paused, his thumb hovering over the screen. He appreciated her concern, but he didn't want her to worry about him. He quickly typed a response.

Ethan: Good morning, Ivy. Everything is under control. Thank you.

He set his phone aside and refocused on the task at hand. The door to his office opened, and Henry stepped in, looking serious.

"Mr. Caldwell, Regarding Mr. Bennett's case," Henry said, closing the door behind him.

Ethan looked up, immediately sensing the gravity of the situation. "What is it, Henry?"

Henry took a seat across from Ethan. "I've been looking into Thomas Bennett's case, and there are some developments you need to be aware of. His wife's legal team has uncovered some new evidence that could potentially weaken our position."

Ethan frowned, feeling a surge of frustration. "What kind of evidence?"

"Financial records that suggest Thomas might have been hiding assets. If this comes to light, it could severely damage his credibility in court."

Ethan sighed, rubbing his temples. "Alright. We need to get ahead of this. I want you to pull together a team to analyze these records and find any inconsistencies we can use to discredit this evidence. We can't let this derail our case."

Henry nodded. "Already on it. I'll keep you updated."

As Henry left, Ethan leaned back in his chair, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He couldn't afford any distractions, not when the stakes were this high.

The day passed in a blur of meetings and strategy sessions. Ethan's focus was unwavering, his determination driving him forward despite the constant pain. By the time the sun began to set, he had made significant progress, but he knew there was still much to do.

Friday came quickly, and with it, Ethan's biopsy. He hadn't told Ivy or his parents about the procedure, not wanting to worry them or show any sign of vulnerability. Instead, he had arranged for Mark and Jack to accompany him to the hospital.

The procedure demanded that Ethan lie still in the same position. For most, this wouldn't pose a problem, but for Ethan, already grappling with an injured leg and the relentless bone cancer, it was a different story. The immobility became a relentless torment, each passing minute amplifying the pain.

When the procedure finally ended, the ordeal was far from over. As they moved him back to his room, the shift to the bed proved excruciating. Ethan couldn't suppress a small scream of pain, a raw sound that echoed in the sterile hospital room. Jack, ever vigilant, was at his side, his face etched with concern.

Throughout the night, Jack remained close, adjusting Ethan's position whenever the discomfort became unbearable. Each movement was a delicate maneuver, aimed at easing the pain without causing further injury. Ethan endured in silence, grateful for Jack's unwavering support. "Hang in there, Ethan," Jack said softly, his voice a constant source of reassurance. "We'll get through this."

Ethan gritted his teeth, nodding silently. The pain was intense, but he forced himself to endure it. He had to.

The next day, Ethan was discharged and taken directly to his penthouse. The journey home was a blur of pain and exhaustion. As the door to the penthouse opened, Ethan was greeted by an unexpected sight: Ivy was there, preparing lunch for him.

She looked up as they entered, her face lighting up with a warm smile. But Ethan's initial reaction was one of shock and anger. He hated that she had to see him like this—weak, in a wheelchair, dependent on Jack to be carried to his bed.

"Ivy," he began, his voice tight with frustration. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to make sure you had something to eat when you got home," she replied, her tone gentle but firm. "You need to rest and recover."

Ethan swallowed his anger, knowing it was misplaced but unable to fully contain it. "Jack, please close the bedroom door."

Jack did as ask, leaving Ethan alone to simmer in his emotions. He hated feeling this exposed, this vulnerable. But he knew Ivy was only trying to help, and deep down, he appreciated her concern.

Ivy continued to prepare lunch, moving efficiently around the kitchen. When she was done, she brought a tray into the bedroom, placing it on the side table beside Ethan.

"Here you go," she said softly, giving him a small smile. "I need to get to work, but I'll come back to the penthouse later when I finish my shift."

Ethan looked at her, his expression unreadable. "Thank you, Ivy," he said finally, his tone softened by genuine gratitude. "I'll see you later."

She nodded and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Ethan was left alone with his thoughts, the scent of the freshly prepared lunch filling the room. He leaned back against the pillows, the pain in his leg a constant reminder of the battle he was fighting.

Despite his initial anger, he felt a flicker of warmth at the thought of Ivy's care. She had seen him at his weakest, yet she hadn't flinched or shown pity. Instead, she had stepped in to help, showing a strength and compassion that touched him deeply.

Ivy was working her shift at the café, the familiar bustle of customers and the aroma of coffee filling the air. She moved efficiently behind the counter, preparing drinks and serving pastries with practiced ease. The rhythm of her work was comforting, a steady flow that kept her mind occupied.

She was in the middle of making a cappuccino when she heard a voice that made her freeze.

"Ivy..."

She looked up, her eyes widening as she recognized the face in front of her. The cup she was holding nearly slipped from her grasp. "What do you want, Scott? I'm busy."

Scott, a man in his mid-fifties with a weary look and graying hair, stood there with an expression that was a mix of regret and longing. "Scott? I am still your father, Ivy. I just need to talk to you."

Ivy's grip tightened on the cup, her knuckles turning white. "I don't have a father, Scott. Not since he left us 15 years ago."

Scott's face fell, the weight of her words hitting him hard. "Ivy, please. Just hear me out. I know I don't deserve it, but I need to talk to you."

She set the cup down, trying to keep her composure in front of the customers and her coworkers. "This isn't the time or place, Scott. I'm working."

"I know," he said, his voice low and filled with desperation. "But it's important. Please, just give me a few minutes."

Ivy glanced around the café, noting the line of customers waiting and the curious glances from her coworkers. She didn't want to cause a scene, but she also didn't want to deal with Scott right now. Her mind was still on Ethan, and she didn't have the energy for whatever Scott wanted.

"Fine," she said finally, her tone cold. "Five minutes. After my shift."

Scott nodded, relief washing over his face. "Thank you, Ivy. I'll wait outside."

She watched as he left, her heart pounding in her chest. Scott's sudden appearance had thrown her off balance, and she struggled to regain her composure. She finished the cappuccino and handed it to the waiting customer, forcing a smile.

The rest of her shift passed in a blur, her mind racing with thoughts of Scott and the conversation they would have. She couldn't shake the feeling of unease that his presence had stirred in her. By the time her shift ended, she was both mentally and physically exhausted.

As she stepped outside, she saw Scott waiting by the entrance, his expression tense. She crossed her arms and faced him, her gaze unwavering. "Alright, Scott. What is it?"

Scott shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting around as if searching for the right words. "Ivy, I... I know I messed up. I left, and I can't change that. But I need your help."

Her eyes narrowed, suspicion and anger mingling in her gaze. "My help? After everything you did to us?"

"I know I don't deserve it," he said quickly. "But I'm in trouble, Ivy. Real trouble. And you're the only person I can turn to."

Ivy's mind flashed back to the pain and abandonment she felt when he left. She had moved on, built a life for herself, and found new people who cared about her. But Scott's plea tugged at a part of her that remembered the good times, the connection they once had.

"What kind of trouble?" she asked warily.

Scott looked around again, lowering his voice. "I can't explain it all here. But it's serious, Ivy. Please, just hear me out."

She sighed, her resolve weakening. "Fine. But this better be worth it, Scott. I don't have time for games."

"Thank you," he said, relief flooding his features. "Can we go somewhere private to talk?"

She nodded reluctantly, leading him to a nearby park where they could speak without interruption. As they walked, Ivy couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. Whatever Scott was involved in, it was bound to complicate her life even further.

When they reached a secluded bench, she sat down and looked at him expectantly. "Alright, Scott. Start talking."

Scott took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. "I got involved with some people... bad people. I owe them money, and now they're threatening me. I need your help to get out of this mess."

Ivy's eyes narrowed, her frustration mounting. "Scott, I don't want to hear your troubles. You left us fifteen years ago, and now you expect me to help you? I don't want to be involved with you or your problems."

Scott ran a hand through his hair, his expression desperate. "Ivy, please. I know I don't deserve it, but I didn't know who else to turn to. I'm begging you."

Ivy shook her head, her resolve hardening. "I can't help you, Scott. I have my own life, my own problems to deal with. You made your choices, and now you have to deal with the consequences."

Scott's shoulders slumped, but he refused to give up. "Ivy, you don't understand. I have no one else. Please, just listen—"

"I've heard enough!" Ivy interrupted, her voice shaking with anger and hurt. "You abandoned us. You don't get to come back and ask for my help now."

Scott reached out, desperation in his eyes. "Ivy, please—"

But Ivy had already turned and started running, tears streaming down her face. She didn't look back, her heart pounding as she put as much distance between herself and Scott as possible. She couldn't bear to hear any more of his pleas or excuses.

By the time she reached the café, her breath was ragged, and her emotions were a tangled mess. She took a moment to compose herself, wiping away the tears and taking deep, steadying breaths. She couldn't let this affect her any more than it already had.

Entering the café, Ivy forced a smile and returned to work, burying her turmoil beneath a façade of calm. Her thoughts, however, remained a whirlwind, her father's sudden reappearance stirring up old wounds she thought had long healed.

Her thoughts turned to Ethan. She hoped he was resting and recovering, and that she could find a way to keep her father's troubles from spilling over into her already complicated world. She resolved to stay strong and not let Scott's problems derail her life.

She quickly finished up her tasks at the café and made her way back to Ethan's penthouse, her heart heavy with the weight of her encounter with Scott. She needed the comfort of familiarity, and being with Ethan, even if he didn't know the depth of her feelings, was a solace she craved.

When she entered the penthouse, she found Ethan asleep on the couch, as if he had been waiting for someone but had succumbed to exhaustion. His right leg was hanging off the sofa, and he was wearing a loose T-shirt and shorts. Her eyes were drawn to the scar from the biopsy he had undergone the previous day. Jack had told her about it in confidence, knowing she would want to be there for Ethan.

A pang of tenderness washed over her as she approached him. She gently caressed the scar, her fingers light and careful, wishing she could kiss away his pain. She stopped herself, afraid of waking him. Instead, she quietly went to his room and fetched a blanket.

Returning to the couch, Ivy carefully raised Ethan's right leg, positioning it on the sofa to prevent any discomfort when he woke up. She draped the blanket over him, tucking it around his body to keep him warm. She then turned off the light, casting the room into a gentle darkness.

Before heading to her own bedroom, Ivy stood for a moment, watching Ethan sleep. His face, usually so guarded and stern, was peaceful in slumber. She felt a deep ache in her heart, not just for his physical pain, but for the emotional walls he kept so firmly in place.

In her own bedroom, Ivy washed up and lay down, leaving the door ajar so she could hear if Ethan needed her during the night. As she stared at the ceiling, her thoughts drifted back to Scott. The encounter with her father had reopened old wounds, reminding her of the abandonment and hurt he had caused.

Scott's sudden reappearance had thrown her world into turmoil, but being here, close to Ethan, gave her a sense of purpose and stability. She resolved to stay strong, for Ethan and for herself, determined not to let her father's problems derail her life.

Lying in the quiet of the night, Ivy's thoughts were a tangled mess of past pain and present challenges. With a deep sigh, Ivy closed her eyes, hoping for a few hours of rest before the new day brought its own set of challenges. And just outside her room, Ethan lay sleeping, unaware of the silent vigil she kept over him, her heart full of unspoken love and unwavering support.

Ethan woke up at 5:40 that morning, a little foggy, and realized he had fallen asleep on the sofa. He was surprised to find a blanket draped over him and a pillow under his leg. Carefully, he set his leg down, wincing in the process. Then he noticed the soft flicker of light from Ivy's ajar bedroom door, indicating she was home. He smiled to himself, feeling a warmth he rarely allowed himself to acknowledge.

As he walked past Ivy's room, he peeked inside and saw her sound asleep. A surge of affection washed over him—an emotion deeper than anything he had ever felt, not even for Jen, his ex-fiancée, whom he had broken off an engagement with ten years ago. Determined not to disturb her, he left his crutches outside her room and tiptoed in, ensuring he made no unnecessary noise.

Ethan gently fixed her blanket, leaning in, to place a soft kiss on her forehead. He then quietly exited the room, unaware that Ivy was awake, her heart melting at the tenderness of his actions. She pretended to sleep, savoring the unspoken love and care he showed her through his actions rather than words.

As Ethan returned to his bedroom, Ivy allowed herself to drift back into sleep for a little while longer, feeling a profound sense of comfort and love that eased her exhaustion.

The morning light filtered through the curtains as Ethan woke up, still feeling the soreness from the biopsy. Determined to push through the discomfort, he quietly got out of bed and made his way to the kitchen. He busied himself with preparing breakfast, moving slowly but steadily, setting up plates and arranging food on the table.

Just as he was finishing, Ivy emerged from her room, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Ethan moving around the kitchen. Without a word, she quickly took the cups and the juice box from his hands and placed them on the table. Then, she picked up his crutches and handed them to him.

The movement was so swift that Ethan didn't have time to object. She walked with him to the dining table, ensuring he was seated comfortably before taking his crutches and leaning them against the counter.

"Good morning, Ivy," Ethan said, a hint of gratitude in his voice. "You didn't have to do that."

Ivy nodded, her eyes soft with affection. "I know I don't have to. I want to. It makes me feel good to help you, even just a little bit."

Ethan looked at her, said nothing but his heart warming at her sincerity.

As the morning progressed, Ethan noticed that Ivy seemed distant, lost in her thoughts. She moved mechanically; her usual brightness dimmed. Ethan couldn't help but feel a growing concern. He watched her closely, trying to decipher what was troubling her.

After breakfast, as Ivy was tidying up the kitchen, Ethan called out to her, his voice gentle but firm.

"Ivy, I can tell something's bothering you," Ethan began, his gaze steady. "If it's about your finances or anything else, you know I can help."

Ivy looked away, her hands fidgeting in her lap. She took a deep breath before responding. "Ethan, I appreciate your concern and your offer to help, but really it isn't."

Ethan's brow furrowed in worry. "Then what is it? Please, talk to me."

Ivy hesitated, her mind flashing back to the encounter with her father. The old wounds, the resurfaced pain, and the overwhelming sense of betrayal were all swirling inside her. But she didn't want to burden Ethan with her personal issues, especially when he had so much on his plate already.

"It's just... some personal stuff," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be okay. I just need some time to sort it out."

Ethan leaned forward, his eyes filled with concern and determination. "Ivy…."

Ivy looked at him, her heart aching at the genuine concern in his eyes. She knew he meant well, but this was something she had to handle on her own. " I'm grateful for your support. But this is something I need to deal with myself."

Ethan nodded slowly, though he wasn't entirely convinced. "Alright, Ivy. But promise me that if it gets too much, you'll let me know."

She managed a small smile, appreciating his understanding. "I promise."

The rest of the day passed in a quiet, subdued atmosphere. Ivy tried to focus on her tasks, but her mind kept drifting back to her father and the turmoil he had brought into her life. Ethan, though worried, respected her space and didn't press further, though he kept a watchful eye on her.

As evening approached, Ivy decided to take a walk to clear her head. She needed to find some peace, some way to reconcile her past with her present. She told Ethan she'd be back soon and headed out into the cool evening air.

Walking through the city streets, Ivy let her thoughts wander. The encounter with her father had stirred up so much pain and confusion. She knew she needed to confront these feelings, to find a way to move forward without letting the past drag her down.

When she returned to the penthouse, the lights were dimmed, and the space felt calm and inviting. Ethan was sitting on the couch, reading. He looked up as she entered, a silent question in his eyes.

"I'm okay," Ivy said softly, offering him a reassuring smile. "Just needed some fresh air."

Ethan nodded, understanding. "If you ever want to talk, I'm here."

"I know," she replied, her smile growing a bit stronger. "Thank you, Ethan."

A week had passed, and Ethan couldn't help but notice the change in Ivy. She was distant, her usual warmth replaced by a cold aloofness. Her days were a blur of working at the firm, taking shifts at the café in the evenings, and attending university courses. The toll on her was evident. She looked exhausted, both physically and mentally, and she had no time for a life outside her responsibilities. Because of her work, she declined invitations from colleagues for after-office gatherings, her interactions becoming minimal and strained.

Ethan watched her closely, his concern growing with each passing day. He saw the dark circles under her eyes, the way she moved with a sluggishness that betrayed her fatigue. She was pushing herself too hard, and it was taking a toll on her. Every time he tried to offer help, she brushed him off, insisting she was fine.

Unable to stand by and do nothing, Ethan decided to take matters into his own hands. He knew he had to tread carefully, but he couldn't ignore the signs of her distress. Being a lawyer, he was used to investigating and finding solutions to problems. He decided to turn to Jason, the firm's private investigator.

Late one evening, after Ivy had left the office, Ethan called Jason into his office. Jason, a seasoned investigator with a keen eye for detail, listened attentively as Ethan explained the situation.

"Jason, I need you to look into something for me," Ethan began, his tone serious. "It's about Ivy. She's been distant and exhausted lately, and she won't tell me what's bothering her. I need to know what's going on."

Jason nodded, understanding the gravity of the request. "I'll get on it right away, Ethan. I'll be discreet."

"Thank you," Ethan replied, his relief evident. "I just want to make sure she's alright."

One evening, as Ivy was leaving the café after a particularly grueling shift, Jason noticed a man approach her. Ivy's body language was tense, her face etched with worry. Jason discreetly followed them, keeping his distance to avoid being noticed. He observed their interactions, noting the strain and discomfort on Ivy's face each time they met. The man seemed desperate, pleading with Ivy during their conversations. Jason could see the toll these encounters were taking on her.

With this crucial information, Jason returned to Ethan's office. "Ethan, I found out what's been going on with Ivy," he said, laying out the details of his findings. "She's been meeting with a man after her shifts at the café. He's been approaching her multiple times, and it's clear from her reaction that it's causing her significant stress."

Ethan's expression hardened with concern. "Jason, find out who this man is to Ivy. Please have someone from your team follow her discreetly to keep her safe. I swear to God if he lays his hands on her…"

Jason nodded, understanding the gravity of Ethan's words. "I'll get on it right away, Ethan. We'll make sure she's safe."

A few days later, Jason walked into Ethan's office with a file in hand. "Ethan, we've identified the man," he said, handing over the file. "His name is Scott, and he's Ivy's biological father. He abandoned her and her family when she was barely ten years old."

Ethan felt a surge of anger and protectiveness. "Her father? After all these years?"

Jason nodded. "Yes. Their interactions have been tense, and it's clear that his reappearance is causing her a lot of distress."

Ethan's jaw clenched. "Thank you, Jason. Make sure your team keeps a close watch on her. I don't want her to face this alone."

Later that evening, Ethan found Ivy in the break room, a cup of coffee in her hands. She looked tired, her shoulders slumped with the weight of her responsibilities.

"Ivy, can we talk for a moment?" he asked gently, gesturing for her to sit.

She looked up, surprised but nodded, following him to his office. Once inside, he closed the door and gestured for her to sit.

"Ivy, has your father been harassing you?" Ethan began, choosing his words carefully. "I had Jason look into it because I was worried about you."

Ivy's face paled, her grip tightening on the coffee cup. "Ethan, I..."

Her eyes widened with a mix of anger and betrayal. "You had me followed? Ethan, how could you invade my privacy like that?"

Ethan's expression softened, his voice calm. "Ivy, I did it because I care about you. I could see how much this was hurting you, and I wanted to help."

She stood up, shaking her head. "You had no right. My personal life is my own, and I can handle my father without your interference."

Ethan stood as well, his concern deepening. "Ivy, please, listen to me. I just want to support you."

"I don't need your help, Ethan," she snapped, her eyes flashing with anger. "I can take care of myself."

Ethan watched as she turned and walked out of his office, her shoulders tense with fury. He sighed deeply, realizing he had crossed a line. He had only wanted to protect her, but his actions had driven a wedge between them.

As Ivy left the office, she felt a mix of anger and sadness. She appreciated Ethan's concern but couldn't accept the way he had gone about it. She needed to confront her father on her own terms, without anyone else intervening.

That night, as she lay in bed, Ivy thought about Ethan and his unwavering support. Despite her anger, she couldn't deny the warmth she felt knowing he cared so much. But she also knew she had to handle her own battles, even if it meant pushing away the people who wanted to help.

The road ahead was uncertain, but Ivy was determined to face it with strength and independence. She only hoped that in time, Ethan would understand and forgive her for pushing him away.

Ethan sat in the waiting room, the air thick with anticipation and unease. Jack was by his side, a steadying presence as they waited for Dr. Lewis to deliver the biopsy results. When the door finally opened, Dr. Lewis greeted them with a calm smile and gestured for them to enter his office.

"Ethan, Jack, please have a seat," Dr. Lewis began, settling behind his desk. He glanced at the file in front of him before meeting Ethan's eyes. "I have your biopsy results. The good news is that the cells we found are not cancerous."

Ethan let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Relief washed over him, but it was tempered by the concern still evident in Dr. Lewis's expression.

"However," Dr. Lewis continued, "we did find a bacterial infection in your lung, likely stemming from pneumonia. This is not uncommon in patients with decreased immune systems due to chemotherapy."

Ethan nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "What does this mean for my treatment?"

"We need to address the bacterial infection with a strong course of antibiotics," Dr. Lewis explained. "You'll be on an antibiotic regimen for the next few weeks. It's important to follow this regimen strictly to clear the infection. The side effects of the medication can be challenging. It may irritate your stomach, causing nausea and possibly vomiting."

Ethan sighed, the weight of yet another health challenge pressing down on him. "What can I do to manage these side effects?"

"Try to eat nutritious foods and eat small, frequent meals," Dr. Lewis advised. "This can help manage the nausea. Stay hydrated and take your medication as prescribed. If the nausea becomes too severe, let us know immediately."

Ethan nodded, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. "Thank you, Dr. Lewis. I'll do my best."

After the appointment, Jack accompanied Ethan back to the office. The ride was quiet, both men lost in their thoughts. When they arrived, Jack helped Ethan up to his office, ensuring he was settled before seeking out Cheryl.

"Cheryl," Jack began, catching her attention, "I need to go over Ethan's medication schedule with you. He's on a strict antibiotic regimen for the next few weeks, and there are some important instructions to follow."

Cheryl listened intently as Jack explained the details, taking careful notes. "Got it, Jack. I'll make sure everything is in place and that Ethan takes his medication on time."

"Thank you, Cheryl," Jack said, his tone sincere. "It's crucial that he follows this regimen closely."

Cheryl nodded, her expression determined. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

As Jack returned to Ethan's office, he found him staring out the window, deep in thought. "How are you feeling, Ethan?"

Ethan turned, brushed him off. "I'm fine. Got things to do."

Jack gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Please take care of yourself and following the doctor's orders."

Ethan's expression hardened slightly. "Jack, I'm not a child. I don't need you or Cheryl to babysit me. I can handle my medication myself."

Jack sighed, knowing Ethan's defiant streak all too well. "Just making sure you are not missing a dose that could easily set you back."

Ethan waved a hand dismissively. "I'll be fine. I don't need everyone making a fuss over me. Thanks Jack, if you don't have anything else…."

Jack held his ground. "It's not about making a fuss. It's about ensuring you get better. See you Thursday." Ethan clenched his jaw but nodded reluctantly.

The office was quiet in the early afternoon, the usual hum of activity subdued. Ethan had been feeling increasingly nauseous all morning, the antibiotics wreaking havoc on his stomach. He had tried to push through it, focusing on his work, but the waves of nausea were relentless.

He sat at his desk, his head resting on his hands, trying to steady himself. The room seemed to spin around him, and he knew he needed to get to the trash can. As he stood up, another violent wave of nausea hit him, and he stumbled, barely making it to the trash can before vomiting violently.

The sound of retching filled the room as Ethan clutched the trash can, his body shaking with the force of his illness. His face was pale, beads of sweat dotting his forehead. He felt utterly weak, his strength sapped by the relentless nausea and the exertion of vomiting.

Ivy, who had been passing by his office, heard the commotion and rushed in. Her eyes widened in shock as she saw Ethan on the floor, vomiting into the trash can. She quickly knelt beside him, her heart aching at the sight of him so vulnerable and in pain.

"Ethan," she said softly, her voice filled with concern. "Oh my God, are you okay?"

"Ivy, go, please. I don't need you here, " Ethan quickly asked Ivy to leave his office, his voice strained and weak.

But Ivy stood her ground, her eyes filled with determination and concern. "Ethan, I'm not leaving you alone like this."

Ethan's frustration flared. "Damn it, Ivy, I said leave!" His voice was harsh, but another violent wave of nausea hit him before he could say more, leaving him too weak to continue. He slumped on the floor, leaning against Ivy for support.

As the wave subsided, Ivy carefully helped him to the sofa in the office, guiding him gently. Ethan closed his eyes and said nothing, his face pale and drawn from the exertion. He was too exhausted to push her away again.

Ivy sat beside him, her presence a silent comfort. She didn't try to speak or force him to talk, understanding that what he needed most was simply for someone to be there.

Cheryl peeked into the office, her heart aching at the sight. She saw Ethan resting his head on Ivy's shoulder, the vulnerability in his posture evident. With a gentle smile, she closed the door quietly and left the room, relieved that Ethan had someone to care for him.

Cheryl had seen Ethan at his lowest points. She had been there when he broke off his engagement with Jen, silently enduring the pain of losing someone he loved while battling cancer for the first time. She had watched him struggle to maintain his strong facade, even as his world crumbled around him.

As she walked back to her desk, Cheryl sighed deeply, her mind racing with memories of Ethan's past struggles. She could only hope that this time, whatever was developing between Ethan and Ivy would work out. Ethan deserved happiness, and she had seen a change in him since Ivy had entered his life—a flicker of hope and warmth that had been missing for so long.

In the quiet of Ethan's office, Ivy continued to sit with him, her hand gently stroking his back. She could feel the tension in his body slowly easing as he leaned against her. For the first time, Ethan allowed himself to let go, to find solace in the presence of someone who cared.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, the silence between them filled with unspoken understanding. Ivy's heart ached for Ethan, knowing how hard it was for him to show vulnerability. She vowed to be there for him, no matter what, to help him carry the burdens that had become too heavy for him to bear alone.

Ethan, his eyes still closed, felt a sense of peace he hadn't known in years. But as the minutes ticked by, a deep-seated fear gnawed at him, overshadowing any fleeting comfort. The road ahead was long and fraught with uncertainty, and he couldn't shake the feeling that no matter how much support he had, he was ultimately alone in his battle. The darkness of his thoughts loomed large, leaving him with a lingering sense of dread and isolation.

Ivy decided to stop by Ethan's penthouse after she finished her shift at the café. She didn't intend to stay long but was worried and wanted to make sure he was okay. When she arrived, she found Ethan in his study, working on his laptop.

"Ethan?" she called softly as she entered the room.

Ethan looked up, surprised to see her. A smile tugged at his lips, and he quickly apologized. "Ivy, I'm sorry for being curt earlier. I didn't mean to snap at you."

Ivy waved off his apology, her concern evident in her eyes. "It's okay, Ethan. I understand. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

He nodded, appreciating her concern. "I'm doing better now, thanks to you."

She looked him over, relieved to see some color back in his face. "You should get some rest. I'll head back to my dorm."

Ethan's expression turned serious. "It's late, Ivy. I don't feel comfortable with you going back alone at this hour. Please, stay here tonight."

Ivy hesitated, unsure. "I am fine Ethan; I am used to it."

Ethan shook his head. " I'd feel better knowing you're safe. And... I could use the company."

Reluctantly, Ivy agreed. "Alright. I'll stay."

"Thank you," Ethan said, genuinely relieved.

"Goodnight, Ivy," Ethan said.

"Goodnight, Ethan. Get some rest," she replied with a reassuring smile.

Ivy settled into her bedroom, but her mind was still on Ethan. She knew mornings were particularly tough for him, and she hoped to be there to help him when he woke up.

The next morning, as the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, Ivy was up early. She tiptoed to Ethan's room and found him struggling to get out of bed, his face contorted with pain.

"Ethan, let me help," she said softly, moving to his side.

He looked at her, a mix of gratitude and frustration in his eyes. "Ivy, you don't have to—"

"I want to," she insisted gently, helping him to his feet.

With her support, Ethan managed to get up and steady himself. The pain was still there but having Ivy's help made it a little more bearable.

"Thank you," he said quietly, leaning on his crutches as they made their way to the kitchen.