Guinevere intentionally avoided Weston’s gaze, though she couldn’t quite explain why. His eyes lingered on her face for a brief second before he averted his attention elsewhere. “All right. Let’s go,” he said, his voice calm. “The doctor should be here now.”
Guinevere stared at his back, a momentary panic rising within her, but she quickly regained her composure and followed him.
There was no reason to be afraid.
Things were unfolding exactly as she had planned.
By marrying Weston, she would get everything she had ever wanted. So, what was there to be afraid of?
The office was spacious and sleek, filled with an air of professionalism.
The psychiatrist was an acquaintance of Lucas’s, also sharing the surname Quirk. Though young, he had already gained a stellar reputation in the field of psychology. He had recently returned from studying overseas, where he had published numerous high-level articles.
Initially, he had planned to stay abroad, but in the end, he returned home, saying he missed it and that his family was here.
Guinevere had heard that another reason for his return was the competitive compensation offered by several prestigious institutions back home. People like him—brilliant, young, and accomplished—didn’t need to worry about money.
Many wealthy and influential individuals sought his expertise, including Weston and now, Guinevere.
Dr. Quirk had been waiting for them for quite some time.
Guinevere felt a heavy weight of pressure as she stepped inside, the nervousness creeping in. She didn’t show it, though.
Dr. Quirk, however, seemed to read her emotions with ease and flashed her a reassuring grin. “Relax. It’s just a routine check-up.”
She forced a tight-lipped smile but felt even more uneasy than before.
The room, colder than usual, seemed to heighten her sense of discomfort. Dr. Quirk smiled at her, but his eyes seemed to see right through her. Both men sat in front of her, their presence adding to her anxiety.
“Mr. Ford, I’ve gone through your report, and I must say, certain parts caught my attention,” Dr. Quirk said, turning to Weston.
Weston frowned, his face betraying a hint of hesitation.
He remained silent, watching the doctor with calm scrutiny. “Don’t beat around the bush.”
Dr. Quirk smiled and tapped his fingers lightly on the table. “Let’s discuss the issues concerning your fiancée.”
Guinevere’s heartbeat quickened at his words. “How could you know anything about my issues if I haven’t had the check-up yet?”
Dr. Quirk met her gaze with an almost knowing expression. “Well, it’s because the two of you have already completed the standard tests. Ms. Cohen, I’m aware you’ve also filled out several questionnaires, which helped me make my assessment. By the way, Mr. Ford mentioned you’ve had memory loss issues in the past, right?”
Guinevere’s eyes widened in shock, and she shot to her feet. “I’ve never had memory loss!”
She turned to Weston, her face flushed with disbelief. “Why did you bring me here? I’ve never had memory issues.”
Weston looked at her, his expression firm. “Sit down, Gwen.”
Her fists clenched, and for the first time, she disobeyed him. “I don’t want to do this! There’s nothing wrong with me!”
Before she could say more, Weston interrupted her, his tone commanding. “If there’s nothing wrong with you, then let him do the check-up.”
Guinevere closed her eyes tightly, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over. “Do I really have to do this?”
Weston’s voice softened, but it remained steady. “This is just a pre-marriage check-up, as you mentioned. It’s routine—part of the process.”
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