The Billionaire's Regret: His Secret Wife Turned Medical Genius novel Chapter 110

Emily hesitated, then picked up the paper bag. She then unlocked her apartment door and slipped inside.

The moment the door clicked shut, the door across the hall—once belonging to Arthur—quietly opened. Then, a tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped out.

It was Gabriel.

He stood there, staring at the closed door opposite him, his thoughts unreadable.

...

Emily's six months in Rizuch passed quickly.

In no time, she had already booked her ticket home.

In her apartment, she zipped up the last of her suitcases. Now, only a few packed boxes remained stacked against the wall.

Just then, her phone rang, breaking the silence.

It was Mallory.

"Mills, all packed?" On the other end of the line, Mallory's voice was as lively as ever.

Emily walked to the window and gazed down at the quiet street. She softly replied, "Mm."

"You're flying back tomorrow morning?"

"Yeah. Early flight."

"And what about that mysterious gentleman across the hall—the one who kept sending you food? Aren't you going to thank him before you leave?" Mallory's voice was teasing, sly amusement curling every word.

"He's been feeding you like clockwork for half a year—hot meals, soup, and even clothes! And yet, you don't even know what he looks like."

Emily said nothing.

She had never actually seen that mysterious neighbor, but every day, a thermal lunch box appeared at her door. Sometimes, there were small household items tucked alongside it, and once or twice, it came with some seasonal clothes too.

The excuses were always perfectly crafted—he had cooked too much while dining with friends, or a buddy had sent him regional specialties he couldn't finish.

As Emily cleared the last bit of clutter from the table, her gaze landed on one of the empty lunch boxes.

She was grateful for them, yet a lingering doubt gnawed at her.

For six months, not a single dish delivered by that neighbor had contained garlic. That quirk of hers was something only Mallory and one other person in the world knew.

Then, there were the clothes. One black cashmere coat in particular—its cut and style looked exactly like something Gabriel would have chosen.

But how could that be? A man like him would never appear here or go about things in such a way.

Shaking off the absurd thought, Emily simply told herself she was losing her mind.

After hanging up the phone, she picked up a small gift box she had prepared a long time ago.

No matter what, she owed this neighbor a face-to-face thank-you. So, she walked across the hall, drew in a deep breath, and raised her hand to knock.

However, no one answered.

Emily's heartbeat quickened for reasons she couldn't explain, and she knocked again.

Still, there was only silence.

As she stood there, Emily felt the faint stir of that secret suspicion she had been trying to bury—now twisting into a flicker of absurd hope.

Just as she was about to turn away, the lock turned.

The door opened from the inside, and a tall, unfamiliar man stood there.

Emily froze.

The man looked at her with a hint of polite curiosity. "Can I help you?"

"Mills!" Mallory threw her arms around her in a bone-crushing hug. "Welcome home!"

Despite having been nearly squeezed breathless, Emily still broke into her first genuine smile since returning. "I'm back."

...

The restaurant buzzed with warmth as a pot of bubbling stew simmered at the center of the table.

Mallory lifted her glass. "Here's to your return, and your fresh start!"

The clink of their glasses rang out, clear and sharp.

The wine burned slightly as it went down, leaving a warm sensation in its wake.

Mallory took a slice of lamb, her eyes sparking with nosy excitement. "So, what's the story with that mysterious neighbor in Rizuch?"

Emily's hand faltered slightly on her glass. The image of that stranger's face at the door flashed in her mind.

She lowered her gaze, picked up some vegetables, and softly said, "I saw him."

Mallory instantly leaned in closer, lowering her voice like they were sharing state secrets. "Was he hot?"

Emily then dipped some lamb into the sauce. "He's just a stranger," she simply replied.

"What?" Mallory's face fell. "So, after all that hype, it turns out he was just some overly nice neighbor? Ugh... All my theories were wasted."

Emily didn't answer and simply quietly kept eating.

Six months...

The deadline she and Gabriel had agreed on had finally arrived. This ridiculous marriage that had shackled her for years was finally coming to an end.

She set her cutlery down. "I'm done eating."