I shrugged. “You’ll see.”

His frown deepened at my sweet smile.

Tucking a strand behind my ear, he pecked my forehead. “You’re okay now?”

I nodded, leaning into him.

“We’ll go and see Hazel after this. You need a checkup.”

I sat straight, my mood dampening. Hazel was a friend of Leyla. The redhead British girl I saw with him being cozy in that restaurant months ago. The girl he visited quite a few times in the UK. Even at the night of Tess’s engagement.

My doubt was right. He went to meet her.

Though only because she used to be his doctor back in the time when he went for rehab. I was surprised when he told me she worked for a rehab organization. Whenever he thought his past was crawling back into his mind, he went to see her. While handling his case to get him better, she became a good friend of his and kind of a psychiatrist who would help calm him down by talking to him.

“No. We’re not going to go to any hospital. I’m fine.” Hospital wasn’t the issue for me. The issue was Hazel was Leyla’s friend. Even though I knew she and Ace were just friends and she was married, I saw her gazing at him with admiration while talking to him on video calls. Even that night at the restaurant, her eyes were only on him. She had a crush on my man even when she wore a ring of another. When I told him about it, he laughed it off and said I was just jealous.

Yes, I was. I didn’t want any gorgeous redhead having a crush on my man. So even though it sounded weird, I didn’t want to go to a place where the doctor was her close friend.

It was that annoying for me. I didn’t know why, but lately my jealousy was out of control. Even if a random girl looked at him, I felt like hiding him with a shield so no one could see him other than me.

“No excuses. We’re going and that’s final. I’m not taking any chances with your health,” he spoke with finality.

When I went to argue, the door opened and Arthur strolled in, guided by three cops behind him.

I raised my brow at his state. He was limping. There were bruises and cuts on his forearms and face. The light of the bulb in the room shone on his newly shaved head as he watched us with a murderous glare. The hatred in his eyes shone as bright as his bald head.

“You two! What the hell are you doing here? Came here to mock me?” he sneered.

“No. To give you something.” I stood from the chair and walked to him.

“What?”