Semua Bab Your Lips to Mine #4: The Billionaire's Heartbeat: Bab 41 - Bab 50

I always tell my mentees that being a doctor isn’t just about the medical knowledge we hold or the skills we practice. It’s about the people. It’s about connecting with the patients, understanding their struggles, and being there for them when they need us the most. But there’s another part to it, too—one that I think gets overlooked too often. It’s about the journey of growth, both personal and professional. Every step we take, every challenge we face, shapes us into the doctors we’re meant to be. When I look at Maya, I see that journey unfolding before my eyes. She’s one of the brightest students I’ve ever mentored. Smart, driven, compassionate—a future doctor in the making. I’ve seen her grow from a nervous, unsure medical student into someone who stands tall in the face of challenges, ready to take on whatever the world throws her way. It’s moments like these that make me feel proud to be her mentor. To watch her go from someone who needed guidance to someone who is now ready to

It wasn’t until the flashing lights became blinding that I realized how much I hated being in the spotlight. At first, it had all seemed manageable. James and I had carefully kept our relationship under wraps, allowing ourselves some semblance of privacy in an otherwise public world. We were careful, we were discrete, but nothing can stay hidden forever, especially when it comes to people as high-profile as James. The first article was the tipping point. A tabloid piece, featuring a blurry photo of James and me leaving a dinner together, smiling and close. It didn’t take long for the rumors to begin swirling. "James Pierce’s New Mystery Woman," the headline blared, followed by speculations that ranged from half-true to completely fabricated. But it was harmless, or so I thought at first. The public was curious, yes, but no harm had been done. Then came the follow-up articles. And the interviews. And the opinions of random strangers who had never even met me but seemed to think the

The idea of introducing James to my mother had been swirling around in my mind for a while, but the moment it became a reality, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. I’d been careful with our relationship, making sure that it didn’t rush forward too quickly. But now, standing at the threshold of my childhood home, I knew the moment had arrived. I had to bring him into my world. I had to introduce him to the people who meant the most to me. I could hear the low hum of the conversation from inside as we stood at the front door, my hand hovering over the doorbell. James stood next to me, looking more composed than I felt. He always did, especially when it came to the stakes he cared about. I could tell by the way his jaw tightened and his hands clasped together that this was important to him, too. I shot him a glance. "You ready for this?" He gave me a small, reassuring smile. "Of course. I’ve got this." I wasn’t so sure, but I appreciated his confidence. We hadn’t even been tog

I had been waiting for this. The moment when Derek Sullivan would go too far. We had known it was coming, had prepared for it, but that didn’t make it any easier. I could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy. It hung around us like a storm cloud, waiting to break. James had been quieter than usual for the past few days, and I knew why. Derek’s shadow was growing longer, his attempts to undermine James’s business becoming more frequent. He had attacked James’s health in the past, trying to paint him as fragile and incapable, but this time—this time it was different. Derek had upped the ante. He had gone for something much more personal, something that threatened everything James had worked for. I had been reviewing patient notes in my office when I saw the notification on my phone. It was an alert from James’s PR team. I clicked on it, already bracing myself for what I would find. The headline of the article on the screen made my stomach drop: “James Foster’s Health Crisis: T

The decision didn’t come easily. In fact, it was one of the hardest choices I’d ever had to make in my life. The line between my personal life and my professional responsibilities had become too blurry. I had spent so much time justifying the fact that I could be both James’s doctor and his partner—telling myself that I could separate the two, that I could remain objective, that my emotions wouldn’t cloud my judgment. But in the quiet moments, when I was alone with my thoughts, I realized how naïve I had been. I was emotionally invested in him, in us, and that made it harder to make the right decisions for his health. My professional ethics were clear, but so were my feelings. James was no longer just a patient to me—he was the man I loved. And as much as I wanted to help him, to be there for him, I had to face the uncomfortable truth that I wasn’t the right person to do it anymore. I knew what I had to do. And yet, saying it out loud felt like cutting away a part of myself. We had