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.

then you should drink some warm water. If your temperature drops, we won't bother with the medicine," Ernest

placed the towel with ice on my forehead, his

the flick of a lighter, followed by the smell of alcohol burning in the

a warmth spread in my palm; Ernest was rubbing my hand, a sudden heat that made me flinch. "I'm using

my dad had used it on me when I

having to rub your hands

my right. Just when I thought he was done, he wrapped his

instinctively pulled away,

usually so

strip me down,

me touching

words caught me off

out. Yet, his words made it clear: he remembered everything just as vividly as I

then, so I closed

my feet felt ticklish, a warmth that pierced

brought

stil around warming my heart yet filling it with sadness, drawing tears down

-Π

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

at his retreating figure,