Chapter 97 Deeply Concerned for You
Throughout the night, Alexander remained vigilantly awake, stationed by her side. His every sense was attuned to her, ready to respond to her slightest movement, constantly checking if she was uncomfortable or in need of water.
As the first rays of dawn pierced the dark veil of the night, Alexander gently placed his hand on Ava's forehead, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as he found no trace of fever.
Overwhelmed by exhaustion, he straightened up, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He stumbled towards the bathroom, his foot accidentally colliding with the trash can.
Startled by the sudden noise, he feared he might have disturbed Ava's sleep. However, much to his relief, she remained peacefully asleep.
He nudged the trash can back into its place, his eyes catching sight of two pills lying discarded within. A frown creased his forehead as he puzzled over their presence. Ava had assured him she had taken her medication, so why were these pills here?
Why would she deceive him? They were just two pills, why hadn't she taken them? It was unlike her to avoid medication.
A sense of unease began to settle within Alexander's heart as he turned to gaze at the woman still lost in slumber.
When Ava stirred awake, the sun was high in the sky, indicating it was nearly noon.
She found herself alone in the bed.
Lying there, Ava's gaze was fixed on the ceiling, her head still spinning slightly.
She had a vague recollection of Alexander tending to her throughout the previous night.
Reaching out, her hand met the cool sheets beside her, indicating he had left at some unknown point.
The events of the previous night seemed like a distant dream.
With a groan, Ava pushed herself out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom to freshen up.
As she stepped out of her room, the housekeeper promptly approached her, concern etched on his face. “Mrs. Mitchell, are you feeling better?”
“I’m much better,” Ava responded, her face still a shade paler than usual. “Um... where's Alex?”
“Mr. Mitchell left over an hour ago after receiving a phone call,” the housekeeper informed her.
“Oh, I see.”
She assumed he must have rushed to the hospital to be with Isabella. In his heart, Isabella held precedence—a fact that was made all the more evident by his sudden return the previous night.
Noticing the disappointment clouding Ava’s face, the housekeeper quickly added, “Mrs. Mitchell, Mr. Mitchell is indeed concerned about you. Last night he called to inquire about you and rushed back immediately when I mentioned your cough.”
“Is that so?” A bittersweet emotion stirred within Ava.
Her husband had shown concern. He had hurried back at the news of her illness. Then why did her heart taste of bitterness?
Despite his return last night, he was with Isabella now. How many pieces could his heart be divided into?
She wished he would just be consistently cold, harsh even, rather than this alternating treatment—striking her and then offering candy. This was nothing short of torture.
The housekeeper wished to say more but, seeing Ava's expression, he tactfully changed the subject, “Mrs. Mitchell, what would you like for lunch? I can have the kitchen prepare it immediately.”
“Anything will do.” Ava was indifferent to food. Her headache was back, and she retreated to her room, sinking onto the bed and letting out a long sigh.
After some contemplation, Ava picked up her phone and dialed Alexander's number.
"Hello?" The call was picked up soon after, but it wasn’t Alexander's voice she heard.
Ava inquired, “You are…”
“Mrs. Mitchell, this is Felix. Are you looking for Mr. Mitchell?”
“Yes, where is he now?”
“Mr. Mitchell is currently in the bathroom assisting Miss Harrington and cannot take the call. Is there a message you’d like to relay to him?”
Ava's mind was cleaved in two with the shock.
He was in the bathroom helping Isabella?
A man and a woman together in a bathroom—was Isabella naked, asking for his help?
