Chapter 195



The words I had uttered earlier hung heavy in the air, and I found myself momentarily breathless. I was about to stammer an explanation when Ernest, who had been half-kneeling by the sofa, got up and said, "Dinner's ready, come have something to eat."

It was only then that I realized how tightly I had been holding onto him. It turned out that in my dream, it wasn't my parents I was clinging to, but Ernest and I had even snapped at him.

Embarrassment made me let go, and as he raised his hand, I saw the deep marks I had left on the back of his hand.

Ernest walked away, and I got up from the sofa, feeling somewhat sticky. It seemed I had broken a sweat, and my fever had subsided.

“Put this on, don't catch a cold," Ernest said, bringing over a throw blanket.

I reached out to take it, but my hands, weakened from the fever, failed to grasp it.

Ernest ended up draping it over me. He then handed me a washcloth soaked in warm water to wipe my hands.

In that moment, I felt like a small child again, being taken care of by my parents when I was sick.

Ernest asked, setting a bowl of steaming porridge

I would have let him

quiet yes and tried to scoop a spoonful to show

my hand, “Take

like some water first," I said, feeling drained

was warm and sweet with honey. It was impossible not to feel

light yet nutritious dinner: shrimp, salad, beef stew, and mushroom soup. All of them

been investigating me?" I couldn't

there

bit

the things you've

things only someone close to me would

of serving food, then after a

But hadn't I said it was

mood. Besides, he had taken such good care of me...

Ernest asked

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