Chapter 12
I stared at the large clock hanging above the examination hall.
Two minutes left.
My pen hovered over the final question of my advanced pediatric nursing paper.
I read my answer one last time.
Exhaled loudly.
And closed the booklet.
Done. Finally, incredibly, wonderfully done.
The weight of the past four years lifted off my shoulders so fast I felt lightheaded.
No more midnight cramming sessions.
No more falling asleep on textbooks.
I was twenty-two years old, and I was officially finished with my final nursing exams.
The invigilator called for our papers.
I handed mine over with a smile I couldn't suppress.
When I pushed through the heavy double doors of the campus building, the bright afternoon sun almost blinded me.
"Grace!"
Before my eyes could even adjust, a blur of energy collided with me.
Mia wrapped her arms around my neck, nearly taking us both down to the concrete.
"We survived!" she squealed, pulling back to grab my shoulders. Her hair was a mess from stress, but her eyes were glowing.
"Tell me you aced it. Tell me we are officially nurses now!" I laughed, adjusting the strap of my bag, my cheerful mood bubbling over.
"I think I did well. And yes, Mia, we are officially done."
She pumped her fist in the air. "Yes! No more studying! We need to celebrate.
Tonight. Drinks. Dancing. The whole
package."
"I don't think..."
"Grace! Mia!" A voice called out from behind us. We both turned to see Daniel jogging down the campus steps toward us.
Daniel was our class representative.
He was tall, had sandy blonde hair, and always wore a bright, easygoing smile. He was incredibly sweet and had helped me out with missed notes more times than I could count.
"Hey, Daniel," I smiled brightly as he caught up to us. "How was the paper?"
He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks turning a little pink as he looked down at me. "Brutal, but I think I passed. I was actually hoping to catch you, Grace."
"Me?" I blinked, entirely confused.
Beside me, Mia let out a long, exaggerated sigh and suddenly found the sky very interesting.
"Yeah," Daniel smiled, shifting from foot to foot. "A bunch of us are going out to celebrate tonight. I was wondering if you... well, if you wanted to come? I could pick you up."
"Oh!" I smiled, genuinely touched by the invitation. He was always such a good friend. "That's so nice of you, Daniel. But I actually can't tonight. I have a really important family dinner."
His face fell slightly, though he tried to hide it with a quick smile.
"Oh. Right. Family first, of course. Maybe next time?"
"Definitely next time," I agreed cheerfully.
"Have fun tonight!" He waved awkwardly and walked away.
The moment he was out of earshot, Mia aggressively nudged my ribs.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"You are so blind," Mia groaned, dragging me toward the campus gates. "The boy is head over heels for you. He practically had heart eyes."
I laughed, swatting her arm. "Stop making things up. Daniel is just being friendly. He's the class rep."
"Friendly? Grace, he offered to pick you up. He has a crush on you. A massive one."
I shook my head, refusing to believe it. "No way. We're just friends. Besides, even if he did, it doesn't matter anymore, does it?"
Mia's teasing grin immediately morphed into an expression of pure glee. "Exactly! Because you, my sweet, naive, twenty-two-year-old best friend, are getting married to a thirty-two-year-old military powerhouse next week."
I immediately shushed her, looking around frantically. "Keep your voice down!"
A few students walked past us, laughing among themselves, completely oblivious to my panic.
I let out a shaky breath. I had hoped to keep the wedding entirely private. No media. No press releases. No news articles. Just a quiet, closed-door registry and a small private dinner.
Although i haven't really discussed it with Alexander
"Relax," Mia whispered, though she was practically vibrating with excitement.
"Nobody heard me. But seriously... he's coming to your house tonight, isn't he?"
My stomach did a complicated flip. "Yes. Just for dinner. To officially greet my dad."
"A dominant, intimidating General sitting in your cozy little dining room," Mia sighed dramatically. "Pray for your sanity."
"Pray for my cooking," I muttered, hugging her goodbye. "I'll text you later!"
***
The house was incredibly quiet when I unlocked the front door.
"Dad?" I called out softly, dropping my keys into the bowl by the entrance.
"In the living room, sweetheart!" I walked in to find him sitting on his favorite armchair.
He looked better than he had a few days ago, but there was still a fragility to him that made my heart ache.
Last week, his blood pressure had spiked so dangerously high that he had collapsed. Rushing him to the hospital had been the most terrifying night of my life.
The doctor's warning had been clear: He needed absolute peace.
Any extreme stress or worry could trigger another hypertensive crisis.
It was the exact reason I had signed that contract.
Knowing I was settled and protected by someone as powerful as Alexander Reeves was the only thing that had instantly lowered my father's blood pressure. Even though it was just a contract marriage.
I walked over and kissed his forehead. "Have you checked your BP today?" I asked, slipping instantly into nurse mode.
"120 over 80. Perfect as a teenager's," he smiled, patting my hand.
"How was the exam?"
"It went well. I'm officially done.
" His eyes watered slightly. "My girl. I am so proud of you. Your mother would be so proud."
A lump formed in my throat, but I forced a bright, cheerful smile. No crying today.
"Thank you, Dad. Have you taken your medication?"
"Yes, bossy," he chuckled. "Now go start cooking. The General is coming at six-thirty."
I froze.
I looked at the wall clock. It was already five.
"Six-thirty?!" I yelped. "I thought you said seven!"
"I said six-thirty yesterday!" I hadn't heard a word. My mind had been too full of nursing terminologies and contract clauses.
Panic mode: Activated.
I rushed into the kitchen, tying an apron around my waist.
For the next hour and fifteen minutes, the kitchen was a battlefield.
I chopped, seasoned, boiled, and prayed. By the time I pulled the roast chicken out of the oven, the house smelled wonderful, and nothing was on fire.
A massive victory.
I ran upstairs, took a ten-minute shower, and threw on a simple, knee-length beige dress. I brushed my hair, leaving it to fall naturally down my back, and applied a tiny bit of lip gloss.
I wanted to look nice.
"Wait why do i want to look nice" i thought
Not like I tried too hard. Just... presentable.
*Ding-dong.* I stopped breathing.
The doorbell echoed through the house.
It sounded louder than usual. More demanding.
"Grace! The door!" Dad called from downstairs.
"Coming!" I wiped my sweaty palms on my dress, took a deep breath, and walked down the stairs. Every step felt like I was walking toward the edge of a cliff.
I reached the front door. Turned the handle. And pulled it open.
Alexander stood on the porch. He wore a crisp, dark navy button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his thick forearms, and tailored black trousers. Somehow, the casual clothes didn't make him look any less intimidating.
He was ten years older than me, and it showed in the absolute authority he radiated.
He completely dominated the small space of our porch. His gray eyes locked onto mine.
Sharp. Observant. Quiet.
"Good evening, Grace," he said. His voice was a deep rumble that sent a very weird, very sudden shiver down my spine.
"G-Good evening," I stammered, my natural shyness taking over immediately. So much for being lively and bold.
I stepped aside.
"Please, come in." He stepped over the threshold, bringing with him the faint scent of rain and expensive cologne.
Our hallway suddenly felt entirely too small.
He handed me a sleek, rectangular box.
"For you." I blinked, taking it carefully.
"What is it?" "Open it later."
Before I could ask, my father's voice drifted from the living room.
"Is that Alexander?" Alexander's posture shifted. The subtle tightening of his jaw, the straightening of his back. It was fascinating to watch.
"Mr. Zane," Alexander said, walking into the living room. My dad tried to stand up from his chair.
Before I could even rush forward to help him, Alexander crossed the room in three long strides.
"Please, keep your seat, sir," Alexander said. His tone left no room for argument, yet it was surprisingly respectful.
"Your health is the priority." My dad smiled warmly, sinking back into the cushions.
"It is good to see you, Alexander. Thank you for coming."
"Thank you for having me." Alexander took the armchair opposite my dad.
I stood awkwardly near the doorway, holding the mystery box, feeling entirely out of place in my own home. "Dinner will be ready in ten minutes," I announced, my voice sounding a little too loud in the quiet room.
Alexander's gaze shifted to me.
"Take your time." I practically fled to the kitchen.
When I brought the food to the dining table, the two men had already migrated there.
Dad was telling a story about his old business, and Alexander was listening intently.
He maintained steady eye contact, nodding at the right moments.
He rarely smiled, and he didn't laugh at my dad's mild jokes, but he gave my father his absolute, undivided attention.
I set the roasted chicken in the center of the table.
"Wow," Dad said, his eyes widening.
"Grace, this looks amazing." I blushed, taking my seat across from Alexander.
"Let's just hope it tastes okay."
Alexander didn't say anything as I passed him the serving plates.
I watched him nervously from the corner of my eye as he took his first bite.
Wait why does it feel like i am waiting to hear the result of my exams
He chewed slowly.
Swallowed.
My hands gripped the napkin in my lap.
He looked up, meeting my anxious gaze.
"It's good." I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
"Really?"
"I do not speak just to flatter, Grace." The casual use of my first name, spoken in that deep, dominant tone, made my stomach twist again.
"Thank you," I murmured, staring intensely at my mashed potatoes.
The dinner flowed surprisingly well.
When we finished eating, I immediately stood up.
"I'll clear the plates." Alexander stood up at the exact same time.
"I will help you." I froze.
"Oh. No, really, you're the guest. I can do it."
He was already gathering his plate and my father's.
"I am not a guest. I am your fiancé."
The word hit me like a physical blow.
*Fiancé.* My dad hid a smile behind his hand, suddenly looking very interested in the ceiling.
I tried to summon my courage. I pulled my shoulders back, trying to channel Mia's boldness.
"Alexander," I said, trying to sound authoritative.
"I said I have it." He stopped.
He looked down at me.
The height difference was entirely unfair.
His gray eyes flickered with something that almost looked like amusement, though his face remained perfectly stoic.
"Are you giving me an order, Miss Zane?" My breath hitched.
I remembered my condition from the contract. *No ordering me around.* Was he using my own rule against me?
"N-No," I stammered, my brief moment of boldness shattering completely. "It's a...S-strong suggestion."
"I see." He smoothly stepped past me, carrying the plates toward the kitchen. "Your suggestion is noted. And declined."
I stood there, completely flabbergasted, as one of the highest-ranking military officer in the region walked into my kitchen to do the dishes.
My dad chuckled softly from the table.
"You've met your match, Gracie." I groaned, burying my face in my hands.
When I finally dragged myself into the kitchen, Alexander was standing by the sink, rinsing the plates.
The sight was so bizarre, so completely domestic, that I had to pinch my arm to make sure I wasn't dreaming.
I grabbed a dish towel and stood beside him, drying the plates as he handed them to me.
We stood shoulder-to-head because he was definitely taller and bigger than me. He was so warm.
"Your father looks well,"
Alexander said quietly, breaking the silence.
"He does," I agreed, a genuine smile touching my lips.
"Since his blood pressure stabilized, he's been much better. The doctor said he just needs zero stress."
Alexander turned slightly to face me. "Then I will ensure he has zero stress."
The promise in his deep voice made my chest feel tight.
I looked up at him. Really looked at him.
He was intimidating, yes.
Dominating, absolutely.
But there was a steadiness to him.
Like a mountain you could hide behind when a storm came.
"Thank you," I whispered. "For doing this. For the contract." Alexander looked down at me for a long moment.
"You do not need to thank me, Grace."
He took a step back, breaking the invisible tension that had suddenly wrapped around us.
"I should go. Let him rest." I nodded quickly, my face burning.
"Right. Yes. I'll walk you out."
After he respectfully bid my father goodnight, I walked him out to the front porch.
The night air was cool, a gentle breeze rustling the trees in our front yard.
He stepped off the porch, then paused, looking back at me. "Open the box before you sleep."
"I will." He nodded once, turned, and walked to his black SUV.
I stood by the door, watching his car pull out of the driveway and disappear down the street.
I leaned against the doorframe, letting out a long, shaky breath.
I locked the door and ran upstairs to my bedroom, grabbing the sleek box he had left on the table.
I sat on my bed and carefully untied the black ribbon.
Inside, resting on velvet, was a silver stethoscope.
But it wasn't just any stethoscope.
It was a top-tier, professional medical-grade one.
Engraved delicately on the chest piece were three small words.
*Nurse Grace Reeves.*
I stared at it.
I traced the letters with my thumb, my heart doing that complicated flip again.
He had remembered my exams.
He had acknowledged my dream.
And he had used his last name.
I fell back onto my pillows, covering my face with a groan.
"Oh God," I whispered to the empty room.
"I am in so much trouble."