Gael was overwhelmed with deep emotions, and he couldn’t help but call out, “Yanni.”

…

Half a month later, autumn deepened and early winter approached.

Yanni sat on the sofa, reviewing a document. The bright office was warmed by the heating, creating a cozy atmosphere. On her desk stood a crystal vase filled with the calla lilies that Keaton had sent her.

Keaton had been bringing fresh ones every other day. He always replaced them with new blooms. He said he wanted to make sure that Yanni would think of him whenever she had a moment of leisure.

How childish!

Be that as it may, her lips would curl into a faint smile, and her mood would lift inexplicably whenever she thought of Keaton.

With her recent research on Ansley’s condition progressing well, Yanni felt confident that she could successfully perform the surgery, given that they had a suitable heart from a donor.

Yanni wasn’t a saint. She was a doctor. Just as she was focused on her work, a knock sounded at the do