Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

In the hospital room, Maxwell was propped up in bed on the phone. Hearing a noise, he looked up and his gaze quickly swept over Rosemary, his brows suddenly furrowing, "Archer called you?"

Rosemary rolled her eyes in exasperation, "He said you were kicking the bucket and wanted me to come sign a DNR so we could get you cremated."

She walked in and sat down on the stool next to his bed. She had asked the doctor on her way through and learned that his stomach spasms were caused by drinking on an empty stomach. Once they subsided, he'd be good to go.

Maxwell tossed his now silent phone onto the nightstand, "I'm starving."

Rosemary stared at him for a few seconds, and then resignedly whipped out her phone to order takeout. She just wanted to get this lord and master fed ASAP so they could both go their separate ways. She did not want Archer calling her back after she got home.

She still had some pride left.

Maxwell's gaze fell on her, his tone indifferent, "By the time the delivery gets here, I might be back in the ER for another round of resuscitation. Is this really how you take care of the sick?"

The medicine had eased the feeling in his stomach, like two hands tearing at him, but it hadn't completely gone away. It still throbbed now and then.

Rosemary glared at him fiercely before standing up abruptly and heading for the door without a word.

Maxwell frowned, "Wait, where are you off to?"

"Buying dog food." She bit out spitefully, her voice heavy with resentment, "Gotta feed the dog."

Behind her, it seemed like the man chuckled, but Rosemary was already out the door and didn't catch it clearly.

Following Archer's instructions, she went downstairs and bought a bowl of lean meat porridge without green onions, handing it over and urging, "Eat up and then head back."

Maxwell on the bed didn't react, looking like he had fallen asleep. His back was to her, so Rosemary couldn't see his face. After hesitating for a few seconds, she leaned in to check.

Brows furrowed tight, his forehead was covered in cold sweat, and his lips and complexion were pale with a hint of blue.

He wasn't asleep; he was in severe pain! Rosemary hesitated for a few seconds, her voice tense and unintentionally anxious, "Maxwell, is your stomach hurting again? I'll call the doctor."

There was a call button for the doctor's office right above the bed, which she pressed, and the doctor arrived quickly.

After the check-up, he pressed down on a spot just above the kneecap on the outer front side of Maxwell's thigh, three fingers' breadth from the bone, and told Rosemary, "Massage this acupoint, it can help relieve stomach pain. He just had his meds, so it's not good for him to take more right now. You could press here or rub his stomach to help ease the pain a bit."

So now she had to play masseuse after getting him food?

The doctor saw her unmoved and apparently indifferent, his voice even sterner, "Are you his family? The patient is in agony, and you're just standing there watching?"

Rosemary snapped back to reality, apologizing seriously, "Sorry, I'm his wife, but usually it's his mistress who do this kind of thing. I'm not familiar with it. Where should I press again? Doctor, could you show me one more time?"

The doctor had only meant to scold her out of professional obligation, never expecting to unearth such a scandal. For a moment, his gaze towards Maxwell changed.

He coughed awkwardly, straightened up, and withdrew his hand, "Actually, you don't have to press; the medicine should take effect soon, and the pain will ease off."

After the doctor left, Maxwell gritted his teeth and asked, "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Rosemary raised an eyebrow at him, "Can't let Victoria have all the fun."

Maxwell's stomach ache subsided in the wee hours, and although Rosemary was dead tired, she still managed to complete the discharge procedures.

Public hospitals couldn't compare to private ones in terms of comfort: the beds were small, the curtains thin, and she was particular about her sleeping arrangements. Having stayed up most of the night and wanting to sleep in the next day was a no-go in the hospital.

This time she didn't dare abandon Maxwell halfway. Who knew what trouble he might stir up next!

The next day, as Rosemary was just waking up, she was startled by Yolanda's magnified face looming over her. She scrambled backward before recognizing the intruder and slumping back onto the bed with a scowl, "What are you doing? You nearly scared the living daylights out of me this early in the morning."

Yolanda, sitting on the bed's edge, sneered at her, "You've got some nerve! Who scared whom? I called you a million times and you didn't pick up. I thought you'd gone off to be with him in the afterlife or something! Look at the time, will you? 'Early in the morning'? More like ghost o'clock for you."

Still groggy, Rosemary instinctively reached for her phone, asking, "What afterlife?"

She had set her phone to silent the night before. The screen showed a couple of missed calls from Yolanda, and checking the time, it was almost 4 p.m.

Yolanda scornfully continued, "Maxwell must've been such a jerk that even God couldn't stand it. He ended up in the hospital last night, and as soon as the news broke this morning, Victoria swooped in with her nutritional goodies to play the comforting angel. Not only did Maxwell let her in, but they also spent hours alone together. Who knows what they got up to in there; probably made a baby!"

Although a tad exaggerated, it seemed about right. Still not satisfied, Yolanda warned, "If you even think of going back to him, I'll find ways to grind any trace of lovesickness out of you."

Rosemary worried Yolanda might sprain her eyelids from all the eye-rolling. Speechless, Rosemary changed the subject, "How did you know I live here?"

She hadn't told anyone about her move.

"I ran into Martin at an auction a while back. He told me." Yolanda got angry just mentioning Victoria, poking Rosemary, "You had nowhere to stay and didn't think to reach out to me? If I hadn't bumped into Martin by chance, were you planning on bunking under a bridge?"

Martin only mentioned that Rosemary was homeless, not why, but Yolanda could guess - it was surely some devilry by that boundless scoundrel Maxwell. This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

"Good thing I met him, or else I wouldn't have known where to find you with you suddenly off the grid."

Rosemary got up to freshen herself up, "How'd you get in here?"

"Oh, these swanky apartments? The landlords always got a master key." Arms crossed, Yolanda leaned casually against the bathroom doorframe, "Anyway, I dug up some dirt on Stacey. She's not just some bigwig at Stellar Group; she's also a shareholder, and she's got a pretty fat slice of the

pie. Think about it. Your dad bolted with nothing but debt up to his eyeballs, didn't strike gold abroad or anything. So where do you think Stacey's getting the cash for this investment, huh?"