Chapter 113: Chapter 113: Blame It All on Noelle Sutton’s Tricks in Bed

Although Hugo Sterling buying her paper cuttings had earned Noelle a sum of money—a huge help that meant she didn’t have to return to Westhill Villa and live at Tristan Lawson’s whim—she had no intention of speaking ill of Tristan in front of Hugo.

This was the path she had chosen. Any negative consequences were hers to bear.

Besides, she wasn’t a gossip; there was no need to get caught up in such messy talk.

In truth, she and Hugo Sterling weren’t close enough to discuss such private matters.

Hugo was Tristan’s friend. He would surely find out the reason for their divorce eventually.

In fact, Hugo might even know more about the situation with Sophie Hughes than she did.

"Every family has its own troubles."

Noelle Sutton explained her reason for the divorce with just that one sentence.

Hugo Sterling could tell she didn’t want to discuss the specifics, so he didn’t press the matter.

After breakfast, Noelle waved goodbye to Hugo.

She hailed a taxi and went to Wyatt Yates’s hospital.

Wyatt worked in the neurology department of Sacred Heart Hospital, which was part of the Yates Group.

When Noelle arrived at his office, he immediately pulled up a chair for her to sit down.

Today, Wyatt was wearing a white coat with a stethoscope draped around his neck. A few strands of hair fell neatly across his forehead, accentuating his handsome features.

The gold-rimmed glasses he wore made him appear even more composed and professional.

Without knowing his past, no one could imagine that the street kid who used to love fighting had transformed into someone so outstanding.

He put on a pair of disposable gloves, disinfected a video laryngoscope, sat down, and said softly to Noelle, "The Little Mute, open your mouth. Let me take a look at your vocal cords first."

Noelle believed that since she was seeking medical help, she ought to be completely honest about her condition to aid in her treatment.

She signed, "Actually, when you contacted me yesterday, I had just woken up from a nightmare. I felt like I had made a sound in my dream, and when I tried, it seemed I really could make a sound. But when I do, there’s a burning, sharp pain in my throat."

Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, Wyatt’s eyes shone with joy. "Being able to make a sound is wonderful! That will help your recovery. After all, you haven’t spoken in so many years, so it’s normal for your vocal cords to not handle the vibration all of a sudden. Don’t be afraid. Let me take a look, and we’ll go from there."

Noelle opened her mouth.

Wyatt carefully examined her throat. After putting away his tools, he patiently explained, "Your vocal cords show some signs of atrophy, but it’s nothing serious. If you’re feeling a sharp pain, try to use less force when you speak and let yourself adapt slowly. I’ll prescribe some medication to soothe it. For now, try to pronounce the simple vowels. It’s okay if the sound is quiet. Let me hear."

Following his instructions, Noelle tried to open her mouth and speak.

"a...o...e..."

Even though they were just simple vowels and her voice was faint, she still managed to produce the sounds, albeit with great difficulty and in fits and starts.

Her voice was still a bit hoarse.

Wyatt immediately poured a glass of warm water. "Drink some warm water to soothe your throat. Take small, slow sips, and let it rest in your throat for a moment."

There was still a burning sensation in Noelle’s throat as she sipped the warm water.

Wyatt lowered his voice and said gently, "Your aphonia back then was caused by trauma, which is typically a neurological issue. The fact that you can suddenly make sounds indicates a tendency toward self-healing. When you’re done with your water, I’ll take you for a brain scan. I’m confident you’ll recover even faster this way."

This gave Noelle even more hope.

As her hope grew, so did her inner desire to speak.

Once her throat felt a little better, she put down the water glass and signed, "Wyatt, thank you."

Wyatt gave a small smile. "We’ve known each other for so many years. Why be so formal with me?"

"In a situation like mine, how long will it take until I can speak?"

She continued to sign.

’I have to know,’ she thought. ’I only have six months.’

’It would be best if I can recover within half a year.’

’That way, I can achieve more of the things I always wanted but could never have, while I’m still alive.’

"I can’t make a proper assessment until the brain scan results are in. But trust me, it won’t be too long. In a colleague’s clinical experience, even severe cases take a little over half a year. Since you can already make sounds, recovering within six months shouldn’t be a problem."

A faint smile blossomed on Noelle’s beautiful face.

Wyatt knew she must be very eager to speak.

’Since she can already make sounds,’ he thought, ’she probably won’t even need the full six months.’

’I’ll give her a slightly longer timeline. If she recovers sooner than expected, she’ll be even happier.’

Wyatt then took her for the brain scan.

After Sophie Hughes returned to The Orchidelle last night, she was in a bad mood and had a few drinks. She woke up this morning with a terribly sore throat and called Tristan Lawson.

Tristan rushed over. When he learned it was because of the alcohol, he was instantly furious.

"Have you forgotten your vocal cords have undergone numerous surgeries and you can’t drink?"

"I’m sorry..."

Sophie’s voice was hoarse, her face etched with pain.

Tristan’s brows knitted together, his voice deep. "Stop talking. I’m taking you to the hospital."

Just as Tristan turned to leave, a scream came from behind him.

He whirled around to see that Sophie had lost her footing and twisted her ankle.

He closed the distance in a few quick strides, grasped her arm, and then swept her up into his arms.

Nestled in Tristan’s arms, Sophie inhaled his familiar scent of cedar and agarwood smoke. Only then did she feel truly close to him.

She pressed her face against his firm chest, listening to the powerful beat of his heart. His embrace was warm and broad, giving her an immense sense of security. It was intoxicating.

’But this wonderful man... he became that mute’s husband.’

’If he were just sleeping with Noelle, with no feelings involved, I could have tolerated it.’

’But I have a nagging feeling he’s actually developed feelings for her.’

’The thought alone made my chest ache, as if I couldn’t breathe.’

’It’s all that mute’s fault. She’s probably so wild in bed. I’ve heard men can’t resist the type of woman who acts all prim and proper in public but turns into a total vixen in the bedroom.’

’If that’s what it takes, I can do that too.’

Tristan had already opened the car door and gently placed her in the passenger seat.

Once she was no longer in his arms, her lustful fantasies suddenly lost their intensity.

The best ENT department in Glenwater was at Sacred Heart Hospital.

Worried about Sophie’s throat, Tristan planned to take her to the ENT department first and get her sprained ankle checked afterward.

And so, he carried Sophie into the hospital.

Noelle had just finished her brain scan, and Wyatt was taking her to the ENT department for a proper examination of her throat using their professional equipment.

Once all the tests were done, he could formulate a treatment plan based on her condition.

But unexpectedly, just as they reached the ENT department, they saw Tristan walking toward them with steady steps, carrying Sophie in his arms.

Tristan’s cool, dispassionate eyes met Noelle’s gaze.