Chapter 760

Lunch break arrived. Evelyn Carter organized her medical charts and prepared to head to the cafeteria. As she pushed open the department door, a familiar figure caught her eye.

Alexander Hamilton stood in the hallway holding a thermal lunchbox, his presence starkly noticeable among the pregnant women and their families.

"What are you doing here?" Evelyn's eyes widened slightly.

The nurses at the station giggled behind their hands, one even winking at her.

"Didn't want you eating hospital food." Alexander lifted the container. "Private kitchen today. Emily's recommendation—tasted it myself. Quite good."

Evelyn glanced at the cafeteria card tucked in her white coat pocket. "Weren't you supposed to have a video conference?"

"Rescheduled." His expression remained unreadable. "Meetings can wait. Lunch with you can't."

His blunt words left her momentarily speechless, her ears warming. Since their trip, he'd become increasingly articulate.

Once inside her office, Alexander deftly unpacked the three-tiered lunchbox. The aroma of sweet and sour ribs immediately filled the space, accompanied by stir-fried seasonal vegetables and a small bowl of yam soup.

"When did you prepare all this?" Evelyn stared at the lavish spread.

"Had the driver pick it up this morning." He handed her chopsticks. "Eat while it's hot."

As she lifted a rib, Alexander produced a thermos like a magician.

"Red date and longan tea. Good for digestion."

Evelyn cradled the warm cup, the sweet fragrance enveloping her. She took a careful sip, warmth spreading from her throat to her stomach.

"Good?" His gaze never wavered.

"Mhm." She nodded, her lips curving involuntarily.

For days afterward, Alexander arrived without fail—sometimes with Cantonese dim sum, other times Japanese bento. Once, he even brought an entire hotpot setup, setting up an electric cooker in her office.

"Here comes the Helping Hand with lunch again!" The nurses had coined him a nickname.

Olivia Lightfoot nearly doubled over laughing. "Dr. Carter, Mr. Hamilton's spoiling you rotten!"

Evelyn pretended not to hear as she organized charts, though the lingering warmth of ginger tea in her thermos served as a quiet reminder.

"So you two are..." Olivia trailed off meaningfully.

Evelyn's hands stilled. "We're just—"

A shrill phone call interrupted. The ER reported a multi-car accident with an injured pregnant woman requiring immediate surgery.

Evelyn stood abruptly, her white coat swirling.

"Water broke? Blood pressure?" She strode toward the emergency room, firing off questions.

The patient lay pale-faced, gripping the stretcher sheets. Examination revealed placental abruption—worse than expected. Immediate surgery was critical.

"Family? We need consent."

"Husband's in critical care. Can't reach other relatives," a nurse said urgently.

Evelyn made the call. "Prep the OR. I'll lead."

She moved swiftly—scrubbing in, gowning, gloving—her motions fluid. As the OR doors swung open, she saw the anesthesiologist already in position—

It was Gregory Wilson.