"It's the low blood pressure," the doctor said, her tone calm but professional. "Are you stressed about something, Mr. Foster?"
Ryan remained silent. His gaze fixes somewhere far off, the tension in his posture unrelenting. Seeing him reluctant to speak, the doctor decided not to press further.
"It's fine if you don't want to talk about it with me, Mr. Foster," she said gently. "But I think it would be helpful if you could talk to someone. Bottling up your emotions will only make things worse. Over time, it would start affecting your health in a way you wouldn't want."
She then picked up her prescription pad, scribbled down a few notes, and tore the sheet before handing it to him. "Here, I have prescribed a few medicines. Take them as directed, and you should feel better."
Ryan nodded, taking the prescription from her hand and rising to his feet. "Thank you, doctor," he said curtly.