From Deadbeat To Doting; Something Is Wrong With My Husband!-Chapter 43: Sluggish Pupils and Traitorous Blushes

Ding.

Limping out into the clinical environment, the sanitised smell of bleach was oddly endearing to Brianna. She hadn’t even fully entered the hallway when a male doctor almost bumped into her.

He paused, taking in her face, then turned his attention to the nurse standing next to her. He only offered a nod, but he wore an expression mixed with pity and disgust, which he hastily got rid of by making himself scarce.

Brianna came to a conclusion that his look was for his own battle for not saving a life. She followed his retreating figure and the way he turned back at each step.

It was only then she realized she hadn’t even asked the cause of Lucian’s death.

Turning to the nurse, "Can you tell me how—"

However, she was cut off when the nurse suddenly broke down in a messy painful sob, covering face with shaking hands.

The sight of her ex-boyfriend’s cold departure was the final blow.

"I’m sorry... I’m so sorry," the nurse choked out, unprofessionally. "He’s in... he’s in there. I need to go.".

Confused, Brianna could only watch the nurse retreat towards the elevator, leaving her alone in the dimly lit, silent hallway. The woman now standing before the heavy wooden door to the room where Lucian was supposed to be, couldn’t help but feel a wave of resentment.

’Lucian, you arrogant man. You dragged me into your mess, let the world call me every name in the book, and now you’ve found the ultimate way to ignore me?’

She pushed the door open.

The freezing temperature of the room hit her first. On the bed, a figure lay perfectly still, covered head-to-toe by a heavy hospital blanket. The outline was unmistakable.

As Brianna walked into the room, she remembered she hadn’t called his family yet. How could she? It wasn’t even over three weeks since he came back to life, now this... he’s dead again?

She felt a strange exhausted possessiveness over this moment; taking further steps until she stood over him. She wanted to pull the blanket off his face, but stopped herself midway because she couldn’t bring herself to.

Now, being alone in the room, she could finally allow herself to say the things she would never get to say.

"You. Why did you die now? Everyone is calling me names because of you. It’s your fault. Why are you being the useless man everyone says you are?"

When had saved her earlier, she hadn’t thought he was useless. Even now... But as a psychologist, she knew better. She knew it was pathetic to overthink a single gesture from a man who was, by all accounts, toxic scum. It was a classic "savior complex" trap.

Moreover, she hadn’t even had the chance to process him saving her today, let alone thank him.

"Why did you help me if you were just going to go ahead and die, you bastard?! Why? Aren’t you going to say something?"

Brianna felt cheated. He had performed one act of grace and then slammed the door shut before she could settle the score.

In a fit of tired rage, her fist landed weakly on his chest. "You’re so selfish. Even in death, you’re manipulating me."

The silence of the room mocked her, making her hits harder and more desperate. "Wake up! You don’t get to leave as a hero! "Don’t you dare leave me with this mess! Lucian, wake up!"

Sniffing, she raised her hand to strike him again when a solid, cold hand shot out from beneath the blanket!

It clamped around her wrist with bruising force. Brianna could feel her heart stop. Before she could even scream, the figure beneath the blanket jerked her forward.

Gasping, Brianna’s balance vanished as she was dragged toward the bed. Her chest hit the mattress, and suddenly, Lucian’s face was inches from hers; and as the blanket fell off, it revealed the eyes of a man that was very much alive and dark with a predatory amusement.

"You’re being... noisy," he muttered, using his other hand to weakly grab the back of her neck and pulling her forehead against his.

"Lucian? You’re alive?" Brianna mumbled out, still in shock while her tears were falling onto his cheeks. "You bastard, you’re actually—"

She tried to wiggle herself free, just to take a confirming look.

"Why do I feel closer to you?" he interrupted, closing his eyes while he leaned into her warmth. "The room is spinning... but you’re still. Don’t go back to being cold, wife. It’s... too quiet when you’re cold." 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Brianna narrowed her eyes. Why was Lucian acting... weird?

She twisted her wrist from his weakened grip, looking down at him with a cocked brow.

"Sit back," she commanded.

Groaning, Lucian’s hand fell heavily onto the mattress. He looked dazed by her sudden retreat.

And Brianna didn’t give him a second to recover. Reaching for the lamp on the stand, she flicked it on. The harsh light made him wince and shield his eyes; a classic photophobia response.

She leaned in, peeling back his eyelid and checking his pupil response against the light. Lucian looked up at her, too unfocused to hold a stare, yet there was a lingering raw intensity in his eyes that made her fingers tremble.

"Your pupils are sluggish," she muttered, forcing herself to look at his medical condition rather than the man himself. "You’ve had a significant concussion. That ’closeness’ was just your brain seeking a sensory anchor. Don’t misinterpret it."

"Is that... what the doctor thinks?" Lucian managed to rasp, while a ghost of his usual smirk struggled to form through the pain.

His hand weakly gripped hers, as if to pin her again, but she dodged him like he was a bullet. Already stepping back towards the door to create a safe distance between them.

"That is what the psychologist knows. I’ll call the actual doctor back in. Since you’re clearly ’useless’ enough to survive, you don’t need my pity anymore."

Reaching for the door handle, she turned her back on him.

"I’ll only let you leave if you tell me a joke."

That made Brianna stop, turning back with a single, perfect brow cocked in disbelief. She had never imagined Lucian to be the kind that listens to jokes, since he always frowned. Now hearing him say this made her conclude this was indeed a joke.

She scoffed and turned to the door again.

Lucian called out in a strained tone. "I’m serious, wife. You were just sobbing over my corpse two minutes ago. The least you can do for a dying man is—"

"Don’t," she cut him off quickly, ignoring the way her cheeks flushed a deep, traitorous pink. She refused to look at him. "No need to mention that part. It was a lapse in professional judgment."

A slow, genuine smile spread across his face, making her feel more exposed than the reporters ever did.

She bit her lip. Though she wanted to leave, the guilt of her "violent" outburst earlier nagged at her. "Fine," she muttered.

Brianna wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. Digging through the files of funny academic jokes in her mind, she finally found a memory from her college days.

One she used to find hilarious.

"A physician, a psychiatrist, and a surgeon walk into a bar. The physician says, ’I’m looking for a person with an ailment.’ The surgeon says, ’I’m looking for a person I can operate on.’ The psychiatrist looks at them both and says, ’Do you two realize you’re just projecting your need for external validation onto the masses?’"

Brianna let out a genuine laugh at the punchline; her shoulders shaking. But just as she was at the end of her laughter, it was met with... nothing.

She waited for him to at least chuckle at the brilliant critique of the medical ego. Instead, the only sound in the room was the consistent hum of his heart monitor.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

It was the most unsuccessful ’session’ of her career!

At the awkwardness, Brianna’s laugh died into a dry cough. She struggled to maintain eye contact, basking in the silent shame. The dryness of the room suddenly made it hard to swallow. "I-I... I’m finished. That was the joke."

He still didn’t laugh.

He just kept watching her with those dark unfocused eyes. Brianna felt like she wanted to melt into the floor. "I should just get the–"

"Oh," Lucian interrupted as a slow chuckle finally vibrated. in his chest. "I get it."

Brianna’s eyes lit up with a mix of relief and hope. "See? It wasn’t a bad joke."

Leaning back into the pillows, he murmured. "You’re the physician. And I’m the surgeon. But who’s the psychiatrist?"

Brianna’s brow furrowed. She stared at him for a beat, realizing he had completely butchered the logic of the joke. That made her let out a soft laugh; not at the joke this time, but at him. "Right. You’re stupid, Lucian."

Lucian felt a caress in his chest at the insult. He didn’t seem offended by the "stupid" at all. In fact, he seemed to relish it.

"Does this mean ’Stupid Lucian’ is the psychiatrist?"