She Was Never Just the Billionaire’s Wife (Natasha and Chase) novel Chapter 118

(James)

I keep my office door open when I review charts.

It prevents me from getting lost in my own head.

St. Jude’s is a loud, chaotic hospital, and the background noise keeps me grounded in the present.

The present is much safer than the past.

A sharp rap on the doorframe breaks my concentration.

I look up from my monitor to find Natasha standing in the doorway.

She looks exactly like Will did when he was stressed.

Chin tilted up, shoulders rigid, eyes burning with a defensive, territorial anger.

Every time I look at her, I see the brother I abandoned.

She hates me for that, and she’s entirely right to do so.

I assume she’s here to demand the reckoning I’ve been evading for so long.

"Come in," I say, sliding the file I was working on to the side.

Natasha walks in and drops her leather tote bag onto the chair opposite my desk.

She doesn't sit down.

She paces a tight, four-foot line across the carpet.

"I need a letter," she says.

"I need a comprehensive, bulletproof medical clearance on a hospital letterhead. I need my blood panels, my mobility assessments, and a direct statement from you confirming my illness is in complete remission and will not interfere with my ability to be a good mother."

I lean back in my chair, nodding easily.

"I can provide that. Your response to the Swiss protocol has been exceptional. But you’re angry. Why do you need it today?"

She stops pacing and glares at the wall behind me.

"Chase and I are fighting for custody of Lily," she says, her words clipping together.

"They’re weaponizing my health. They formally cited my 'history of severe medical incapacitation' to argue I don't have the energy to raise Lily. They’re trying to prove I’m too sick to be a good mother."

A spike of genuine disgust hits me.

I’m a physician. I despise watching the legal system twist medical trauma into ammunition.

"I'll write the clearance," I tell her immediately.

"Your physical stamina is not in question. I can pull the data from your latest stress test and attach it to the summary."

I turn to my computer and log into the hospital's central database.

"Thank you," she says, the fight draining out of her just a fraction.

She finally sits down in the guest chair, rubbing her temples.

I open her master file.

To write a comprehensive legal clearance, I need to establish the baseline of her worst symptoms and contrast it with her current health.

I bypass St. Jude’s internal records and ping the legacy files from her previous provider, a Dr. Evans.

The screen populates with a dense wall of lab results, date stamps, and clinical notes.

I start reading. Thirty seconds later, I stop.

I scroll back up. I check the dates. I cross-reference a hematology panel with the attached physician’s summary.

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