No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

Chapter 194



Ever since my parents passed away, I never complained about the bitterness of medicine again. Without them, there was no more rock sugar to sweeten the deal for me. I hadn't tasted rock sugar since.

"It's really sweet," Ernest whispered, lifting a piece of rock sugar to my lips as if to tempt me.

Reluctantly, I opened my mouth, but as the sugar touched my tongue, tears welled up in my eyes and spilled over.

"Why are you crying now?" He cleaned my tears with his hands.

His words only made my heart heavier, my tears harder to stop.

Ernest couldn't keep up, eventually taking the glass from my hand and squeezing my hand gently, "If the medicine's too bitter, we'll skip it."

He walked away, and I buried my face in my palms...

After crying for a while, I felt much better. The thermometer tucked under my arm beeped, signaling it was done.

I checked it: 101.2°F. Definitely a fever.

Ernest reappeared, holding a towel, seemingly wrapping something inside.

first, then you should drink some warm water. If your temperature drops, we won't bother with the medicine," Ernest said, supporting my legs to lie

my forehead, his voice soft,

as told, but soon I heard the flick of a lighter,

spread in my palm; Ernest was rubbing my hand, a sudden heat

method; my dad had used it on

a bit frightening, having to rub your hands together with flaming

hand, then my right. Just when I thought

away, refusing,

so brave,

strip me down,

me touching your

caught me

out. Yet, his words made it clear:

best option then, so I

of my feet felt ticklish, a warmth that pierced straight

brought back

around warming my heart yet filling

-Π

I made some porridge. Have some when you wake up," Ernest said, getting up

at his retreating