Divorced and Chased by My Alpha Billionaire Ex-Husband
Chapter 103: Suppressed Memories

Chapter 103: Suppressed Memories

Gabriel drove Lucas to the hospital in silence, the sound of the road beneath the tires filling the car.

Lucas stared out the window, his mind drifting back to the moments earlier that day.

He still couldn’t shake the strange feeling that had come over him in the car—like a glimpse of something important lost to him.

But the details remained frustratingly out of reach.

When they arrived at the hospital, Gabriel wheeled Lucas into the therapy room.

The doctor, an older man with sharp eyes, greeted them and gestured for Lucas to be placed on the therapy table.

Gabriel helped Lucas out of the wheelchair, positioning him carefully on the table before stepping back.

The doctor pulled a stool up next to Lucas’s legs and began his examination.

His hands were firm but gentle as he pressed and prodded at Lucas’s muscles, moving his fingers along the length of his legs, checking for any signs of sensation or movement.

Lucas remained still.

He stared up at the sterile white ceiling, his heart heavy with frustration.

This was just another visit, another session where nothing had changed.

When the doctor finally straightened up and shook his head, Lucas felt the sinking weight of disappointment settle in his chest.

He knew the answer before the doctor spoke, but hearing it out loud made it harder to ignore.

"There’s no improvement yet," the doctor said. His voice was clipped, professional. "If there were, you would know."

Lucas nearly sighed aloud, but instead, he clenched his jaw.

There was no point in getting upset—anger wouldn’t fix anything.

But beneath his calm exterior, a flicker of doubt gnawed at him.

Would he ever walk again?

The doctor raised an eyebrow as if he could sense Lucas’s growing frustration. "Or, Mr. Lucas, do you notice any improvement in your legs?"

Lucas hesitated, then shook his head slowly.

"No," he muttered, his voice tight. "No improvement at all."

It was the truth, but saying it out loud felt like admitting defeat.

He turned his gaze away from the doctor, focusing on anything else, unwilling to dwell on his immobility any longer.

He couldn’t stand how powerless he felt.

The conversation about his legs was going nowhere, and the tension in the room was suffocating.

So, he shifted topics, hoping to distract himself.

"What about what happened yesterday?" Lucas asked, the memory of his sudden blackout fresh in his mind.

He kept his tone even, though inside he felt a ripple of uncertainty. "I became unconscious in the car. That wasn’t normal."

The doctor’s face flickered with something—surprise, maybe unease—before he quickly masked it.

"It was probably exhaustion, Mr. Lucas," the doctor said with a dismissive wave, as if Lucas was overthinking it. "You’ve been through a lot. It’s natural for your body to need rest."

But Lucas wasn’t buying it.

"I don’t think it was just exhaustion," he replied, his voice firmer now. "It felt more like... I was having a recollection of my lost memories."

The doctor’s calm expression shifted slightly.

His eyebrow lifted, then dropped just as quickly, as if he was trying to hide his reaction.

"That’s... a good thing, then," the doctor said, but the smile that followed was thin, almost forced.

Lucas watched him closely.

Something about the doctor’s reaction didn’t sit right with him.

He had been trying to remember things for years now—trying to piece together the missing parts of his life—and yesterday felt like the closest he’d come to anything real.

The idea that the doctor was brushing it off as exhaustion only deepened Lucas’s suspicions.

"I want to remember everything," Lucas said, his voice quieter now but filled with determination. "I feel like the memory I lost is important... like there’s something I’m missing."

The doctor’s fake smile faltered.

For a split second, his face betrayed something—panic? Fear?—but he quickly composed himself, smoothing his features into a mask of calm professionalism.

"Mr. Lucas," the doctor began, his tone a little too controlled, "you shouldn’t stress yourself trying to remember. Exhausting your brain like that can cause the kind of episode you had in the car. It’s best to take it slow and steady. Let the memories come back naturally."

Lucas clenched his jaw, unwilling to argue further, though his gut told him there was more to the story than the doctor was saying.

Nonetheless, he nodded, not wanting to argue further. "I understand."

The doctor offered another thin smile, clearly eager to wrap up the session. "Good. We’ll continue monitoring your progress."

Gabriel, who had been standing quietly by the door, stepped forward as the doctor motioned that the session was over.

He helped Lucas back into the wheelchair, and they left the hospital soon after.

---

The doctor remained behind in his office, watching as Gabriel wheeled Lucas out of the building.

His hands trembled slightly as he reached for his phone, dialing a number he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to use.

The phone rang once, twice, before a familiar voice answered on the other end.

"What is it?" Julia’s voice was cold, direct.

The doctor took a deep breath, steadying his nerves.

"Mrs. Julia," he began cautiously, "are you still adding the drug to Mr. Lucas’s food?"

There was a pause on the other end.

"Yes," Julia replied after a moment. "Because of that, I’m the one handling his meals now instead of Mrs. Hayden. Even his water—I add a drop to it. Why do you ask?"

The doctor hesitated. "It seems like... Mr. Lucas is beginning to remember his memory."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, followed by the unmistakable sound of liquid being spit out.

"What?" Julia’s voice was sharp with shock. "He’s remembering?"

The doctor wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, his anxiety rising.

"He mentioned having a recollection of his lost memories while he was unconscious in the car yesterday. He said it didn’t feel like exhaustion—it felt like a memory coming back."

Julia was silent for a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was quieter, more controlled. "That’s impossible. The drug was supposed to prevent any of that."

"I don’t know what to tell you," the doctor said, trying to keep his voice steady. "But he’s starting to question things. He even said he feels like the memory he lost is important."

There was another long pause.

"I’ll have to increase the dosage," Julia muttered, more to herself than to the doctor. "If he starts remembering too much..."

The doctor’s stomach twisted uncomfortably.

He had been following Julia’s orders for years now, keeping Lucas’s memories suppressed with the drug.

But if Lucas was starting to break through that...

"Mrs. Julia," the doctor began hesitantly, "perhaps we should—"

"You don’t need to worry about it," Julia cut him off, her voice firm. "I’ll handle it. Just keep doing what you’re doing."

The line went dead before the doctor could respond.

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