"You know as well as I do how that lawsuit turned out. How could she possibly be in good spirits? Everett flew back just to handle it," Jeffrey sighed, wrapping an arm around Karen's shoulders. "Letput it to you this way, anyone in the world could hurt Dorothy, but not Everett. He'd rather take a bullet than cause her the slightest harm. You can truston that." Karen seemed to want to argue, but... Jeffrey's point was hard to dispute.
Karen was well aware of just how much Everett cared for Dorothy.
"Suddenly, I'm dying to know if we're having a boy or a girl! Why don't we head to the hospital right now and find out?" Feeling overwhelmed, he quickly changed the subject.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtKaren nodded. "Sure!" Even with Everett by her side, Dorothy's sleep was fitful - a cycle of waking and dozing.
Thankfully, Everett hadn't drawn the curtains, keeping the room shrouded in darkness, which helped Dorothy avoid waking up completely once daylight broke.
The last tDorothy opened her eyes, it was the aroma of chicken soup that stirred her from sleep.
The soup Everett made had a unique flavor, distinctly different from anyone else's. She couldn't pinpoint what he added, but it was irresistibly fragrant.
"You're awake? Freshen up, and let's have something to eat." Dorothy blinked a few times, fully awakening, and nodded slightly.
After freshening up, she approached the table, her gaze lingering on Everett's bandaged hand, faint traces of blood seeping through...
"Please, stop cooking. I don't enjoy it," she said, fearing he wouldn't listen otherwise.
"How about just a little bit for today?" Everett replied, unbothered, pushing the bowl and spoon a bit closer to her with his left hand. "From now on, we'll get room service." "Okay." Dorothy sat down, slowly spooning the soup into her mouth. She had virtually no appetite and even felt a wave of nausea she had to suppress.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmHer aversion to food had grown so severe that she appeared visibly thinner and somewhat listless.
"After we eat, how about we take a little walk? Sound good?" Instead of heading straight to the hospital, Everett had arranged to meet the doctor in a suburban park.
Having dealt with Amanda's depression and mental health issues for years, Everett had sinsight into the matter. He knew that places like hospitals often made people feel more confined and struggled to emerge from their own emotions. "I don't want to go out." "Dorothy, don't you want to get better soon and see Abigail and Langston? They've been asking to see their mommy a lot." Dorothy didn't reply.
Taking her silence as consent, Everett didn't want to always bring the kids into the conversation, but it seemed that Dorothy, aside from her attachment to Abigail and Langston, appeared indifferent to everything else, perhaps even including himself. Watching her struggle to finish even half a bowl of soup, Everett couldn't help but intervene.
"If you really can't eat, don't force yourself. You probably haven't eaten much in days. Eating too much now might make you feel sick." Dorothy showed little reaction, simply nodding and putting down her spoon.
"Letclean up here, and you go wait on the bed. I'll apply sointment for you." "Ointment?" Everett gestured towards her chest. "That wound, you definitely haven't treated it." Though she was clothed and he couldn't see anything, Everett's observations didn't miss a beat. He noticed Dorothy flinch slightly when her spoon brushed against her skin under her clothes.