Chapter 3 – Proximity Cure
1011 Words
**“Adrian?"**
Ivy's voice echoed in the manor's silent library. She hadn't meant to speak. She'd only come for a book—an actual one, with pages—but now Adrian was slumped on the floor between two leather chairs, clutching his skull.
His face was pale, eyes squeezed shut, lips moving in pain.
She hesitated. Every instinct screamed not to go near him. But his breathing was ragged, shallow.
“Adrian," she repeated, stepping closer.
He didn't react. A tremor shook his arm.
“Damn it," she whispered, dropping beside him. She laid a hand on his shoulder.
Instantly, he stilled.
His breaths deepened. Shoulders relaxed. The twitch in his jaw vanished.
His eyes opened—sharp, clear, almost lucid.
“…Ivy?" His voice was hoarse, but steady.
She yanked her hand back.
He winced, but didn't collapse. “Stay. Please."
She froze. “What the hell just happened?"
Footsteps pounded down the hall.
Dr. Ming burst in with a portable scanner. “Vitals normalizing. Seizure aborted."
He knelt, running diagnostics, then looked up at Ivy.
“Stabilization achieved at one-meter radius," he said. “Again."
She turned to Adrian. “Again?"
Adrian sat up slowly. “It's the chip. It malfunctions under stress. Your proximity suppresses the spikes."
“So I'm your… sedative?"
“It's not that simple."
“No?" She stood. “Because from here, it looks very simple."
He reached for the scanner tablet, flicking through data. “The chip was an experimental design. It regulates rogue electrical storms. But it needed a biological sync partner."
She crossed her arms. “And you somehow matched me."
“Your genetic resonance is rare. The chip responds only to you."
Ivy laughed, humorless. “So what—you married me as a prescription plan?"
“No." Adrian stood. “I married you because the alternative was death."
“That's not marriage. That's hostage medicine."
“I know." He exhaled. “Which is why I'm offering you a test."
She narrowed her eyes. “A test?"
“One supervised excursion. Leave the grounds. With guards, of course."
“Of course."
“You say I've caged you. Prove I can trust you outside of it."
“Or what? You revoke my field trip privileges?"
“Or I accept you'll never stay voluntarily."
---
The car waited at the estate's south gate.
Calla handed Ivy a navy coat, scarf, and smart watch. “Stay within two kilometers. It'll vibrate if you exceed range."
Ivy stepped into the backseat beside Adrian, who sat motionless, fingers white-knuckled on his knee.
“Relax," she muttered. “I'm not going to bolt."
“I don't relax," he said.
They drove toward the river.
---
The café was over-designed and under-attended. Adrian chose a booth by the window. Ivy sat opposite him, deliberately far.
She noticed it instantly—his breathing shortened. His hands twitched.
“Still think I'm medicine?" she said.
He didn't respond.
“I read clinical journals, you know. About chips like yours. They require resonance signatures. Most trials failed."
Adrian nodded. “Mine almost did."
“You never told me this before."
“I didn't want pity."
“Pity?" Ivy leaned in. “You married me under false pretenses, locked me in a biometric suite, and track my every heartbeat. You think I have room for pity?"
“I think you have questions."
“I have a thousand."
“Then ask."
She stared at him. “Why me? Out of everyone?"
He looked her in the eye. “Because you're the only one who didn't trigger rejection."
Silence stretched.
“So you bought me," she said softly. “Like spare parts."
“No," he said. “I tried everything else. You were my last hope."
She stood suddenly. The watch on her wrist vibrated.
Adrian's face tensed. “Don't go farther."
“Why not? What happens if I do?"
His hand gripped the edge of the table. Sweat beaded at his temple.
She took one more step.
He groaned.
His vision blurred. His spine convulsed.
Ivy dashed back. “Damn it—okay! Okay, I'm here!"
He gasped, shaking.
Dr. Ming and Calla rushed in from outside.
“Vitals spiking. Chip destabilizing," Ming muttered.
Adrian pressed a hand to his forehead. “Distance. It's the radius. It's too short."
Ivy stared at him. “You can't survive without me near."
“I didn't choose this," he whispered.
“And I didn't agree to be your cure."
---
Back at the manor, Ivy slammed the bedroom door and tore off the smartwatch. She paced like a caged tiger.
Then she opened her laptop.
She logged into a medical archive using an old intern ID and searched: **neural implant, genetic resonance, Subject A.F.**
Buried in redacted reports, she found it: **SyncChip Project. Patient: Adrian Fu. Regulator: Subject I. Ji.**
Her name.
Her bloodwork.
Her DNA.
Her signature on a consent form she never signed.
She clicked the attached video.
A clip played—Adrian writhing, his mother crying. A doctor's voice: “Only Subject I. Ji provides stabilization. Any alternative results in system failure."
Ivy sat back.
Her hands trembled.
She whispered, “I'm not a wife. I'm an experiment."
---
That night, Adrian knocked on her door. She didn't answer.
“Ivy," he said, voice low. “You have every right to hate me."
Silence.
“I was dying. That's not an excuse. Just the truth."
She opened the door.
For the first time, he looked… human.
Not a CEO. Not a patient. Just a man on borrowed time.
“Is the chip permanent?" she asked.
“Technically, yes."
“But what if I leave?"
He swallowed. “Then I die. Eventually."
“Good."
He nodded, accepting it.
“I'm going to find a way to survive," she said. “And when I do, I'll make sure it doesn't require anyone's captivity."
“I'll help you."
She arched a brow. “You'll help me escape you?"
“If it gives you back your freedom." He paused. “Even if it costs me mine."
- Writer
