Chapter 105 No More Drawing from Now On
The next morning, Layla woke up to find the other side of the pillow unoccupied.
The lingering scent of his cologne still wafted through the air.
Glancing at the clock, she was startled to find it was already ten o'clock. She had slept a full twelve hours, curled up in Samuel's arms.
She didn't mind his arm underneath her, hard and uncomfortable as it might have been, and he must've felt sore after letting her sleep on it all night, right?
On the nightstand, there was a cup of corn chowder.
Layla couldn't help but laugh and cry at the same time.
That man...
He can't seriously believe that just because she loves corn chowder, he should serve it to her for every meal.
But despite her thoughts, she couldn't help but take a spoonful and taste it—it was delicious, never tiring to the palate.
Thoughts of Nathan prompted her to go online and swiftly order a bouquet of carnations. Within the hour, the flowers were delivered, and she took them with her to visit the hospital.
As luck would have it, the room was empty except for Nathan, who was struggling to stretch out his left hand to grab a water glass on the table.
"Don't move, I got it," Layla said, hurrying over, setting down the carnations, and bringing the glass to Nathan's lips.
He smiled at her and said, "Thanks."
"The one who should be saying thanks is me. If you hadn't saved me, I wouldn't be here today," Layla replied, still visibly moved from the memory.
Seeing Nathan with a bandage on his forehead, multiple cuts on his face, and his right arm in a cast, she was filled with overwhelming guilt.
"I'm sorry, it's my fault you got hurt."
Nathan couldn't suppress a chuckle, which caused him to wince in pain, sucking in a breath, he said with a laugh, "I can't believe you're more busted up than I am, hitting your head like that and talking nonsense. What burden? What apologies? Are you out of your mind?"
The more nonchalant he was, the worse Layla felt. She was the type who hated to be a bother to anyone, feeling immense pressure over owing anyone anything, let alone owing her life.
"You're really hurt," she said.
Nathan's smile froze for a moment, his eyes darkening, but a second later he put on a brave face and said, "Nah, it's just a minor injury."
"What do you mean, minor? Are you keeping something from me?"
"No lies—it's a minor injury. I'll just need a couple of weeks of rest and then I'm out of here."
"If you don't tell me, I'll ask the nurses."
Layla began to stand, but Nathan caught her wrist. He couldn't use too much strength in his left hand since it was injured too.
She looked at him anxiously.
"The steel rebar went through my right hand; it's going to affect my dexterity. I might not be able to draw anymore," Nathan sighed, his smile turning bitter.
"No, can't draw?" A chill ran through Layla—being unable to draw for a designer was like a deity losing their wings...
"What can be done? Your hands are a gift from above. Isn't there a top-notch doctor or some kind of rehabilitation that could help? Will you ever recover?" Her complexion paled as she asked urgently.
Nathan shook his head. "It won't ever be the same as before."
Layla's eyes instantly reddened, feeling more panicked than if she had broken her own hand. "I'm so sorry, it's all my fault that you..."
If only she could give him one of her hands.
"What can I do?"
"Please, tell me. Is there anything I can do?"
Otherwise, the guilt would surely tear her heart to pieces.
"You gonna take responsibility for me?" Nathan asked.
Layla nodded vigorously.
"Take care of me for the rest of my life?"
She didn't want to think about anything else and continued nodding.
"Then marry me."
Layla froze, what was he talking about?
A few seconds later, she muttered, "Except for that... I can do anything else..."
"You think I'm a burden?"
"No, how could I ever think that? It's just that I..."
"If you really don't think I'm a burden, prove it. Marry me. That's how you can care for me for life, right? If you can't do that, don't make promises to me."
Layla was at a loss for words. "Yes, I'm sorry, I..."
She was on the verge of tears.
Suddenly Nathan's laughter came from above. "Ha, I was just kidding. Man, you're too gullible."
Layla's nose tingled, and she felt even worse. "Stop fooling me, I know you're just trying to comfort..."
"My hand's just a little banged up; the cast comes off in two weeks. Seriously, it's nothing. I just wanted to tease you," Nathan said, a mix of laughing and crying. "But Layla, I 'broke my hand' for you and you still won't marry me? Guess those TV shows where people pledge their love in return are just fairy tales."
"..." Layla was skeptical. "Your hand, it's really..."
"It's really fine, go ask the doctor if you don't believe me."
A few seconds later.
Layla suddenly got irritated, "Are you out of your mind?! Making up something like that, do you know how worried I was? I was almost crying..."
She couldn't help clenching her fists, but Nathan caught her wrist. "So worried yet refusing to marry me? Got someone else on your mind?"
Samuel's face briefly flashed before Layla's eyes, causing a sharp pang of alarm, her eyelashes trembling, she denied it. "No. I just think that compensating in this way is... it's just utterly absurd."
"Really?" Nathan raised an eyebrow. If she was telling the truth, why couldn't she look him in the eyes?
Who was in his heart?
Layla wasn't good at lying and wanted to end the topic quickly. "If you were just joking and it didn't really matter to you, why keep asking?"
What Nathan really thought was: If it didn't matter to me, I wouldn't ask; in fact, I wouldn't have risked everything to save her that day.
But he joked instead, "You turned down my proposal. I gotta know who my competition is, right?"
"No competition. And no more jokes like that, please. I'll go put these flowers in water."
She tried to pull away, but Nathan tightened his grip on her wrist, his smile fading, "What if I'm not joking?"
Layla frowned, as if she couldn't grasp his meaning.
Their eyes locked, he was adamant about getting an answer.
"Knock knock," two gentle taps on the door.
There stood Nora, clad in a sky-blue Chanel-style outfit, smiling gently, "Am I interrupting?"
Layla's heart skipped a beat, and she quickly retracted her hand, "I'll come to see you another time."
She didn't dare meet Nora's gaze and swiftly made her way past her...
"Miss Adkins, there are a few things I'd like to say to you."
Layla grew more anxious.
...
In the corridor.
Nora's heels clicked on the floor, her 5'7" stature, slender and statuesque, towering nearly eight inches over Layla.
Her poised and dignified presence completely overpowered Laylay.
If one were to look closely, they could see a cold sweat breaking out from Layla's scalp.
Her heart was in turmoil, as if hundreds of drums were beating inside.
What was she going to say?
Her eyes glued to Nora's right hand, she felt stuck in unease.
If Nora were to slap her, should she dodge or just take the blow?
Layla's palms began to sweat.
"Miss Adkins," Nora's voice was still soft and polite, betraying no emotion.
"Why don't you look up at me? Am I that frightening?" Nora said with a light chuckle.
Layla licked her dry lips, struggling to maintain her composure, and finally looked up.
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