My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 742

Emily nodded, quick to explain, “It’s a calming candle. I’ve been having nightmares lately, so my friend brought it for me. My doctor knows about it—it won’t interfere with my treatment.”

The doctor didn’t press further, simply nodded, and left the room.

Once the door clicked shut, Emily picked up the herbal-scented candle and examined it closely.

Even though it had burned all night, the room didn’t reek of herbs when she woke up. None of the nurses, aides, or doctors who came in seemed bothered by the faint scent.

The aide tidied up the breakfast trays, smiling as she worked. “Ms. Blair, this candle—is it from your boyfriend? Mr. Davis, right?”

Emily looked a little taken aback, then smiled. “He brought it, yes—but he’s not my boyfriend.”

The aide seemed surprised but didn’t push, just glanced at the candle again. “Well, whatever it is, it smells nice. I think it helped me relax a bit too.”

She hesitated, a little shy. “Ms. Blair, could you ask your friend where he bought it? I’d like to get one for my mother—she’s been having trouble sleeping.”

“It’s no trouble,” Emily nodded. “I’ll ask him when he stops by later.”

Knock, knock, knock—

Emily heard someone at the door and looked up.

Apparently, when the last round of doctors and nurses left, they’d forgotten to pull the door shut. Standing in the open doorway was Andrew Lane—immaculately dressed in a dark suit, his sharp gaze fixed on her.

He spoke in a low, calm voice. “May I come in?”

Emily glanced at the clock—half past nine. Not exactly visiting hours, and not a weekend.

“Of course,” she replied, her tone steady.

Andrew stepped in, and Emily noticed he was carrying several elegantly wrapped boxes—premium health products, by the look of them.

The nightstand was already crowded with her water glass and the candle. Andrew paused, assessing where to set down the boxes.

Andrew’s gaze lingered a moment on the caramel-colored candle before he sat down in silence.

He hadn’t seen that candle last night.

Emily met his eyes, her own calm and unflinching. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Lane. About these—”

He interrupted her. “They’re for you. Just keep them.”

She fell quiet for a moment.

Someone like Andrew Lane—someone of his status—wouldn’t dream of taking a gift back.

So she nodded. “Today isn’t the weekend. Don’t you have work, Mr. Lane?”

His dark eyes held hers, unwavering. “My afternoon and evening are packed. This morning was the only time I could come see you. After Tristan arrives, I’ll have to go.”