Chapter 45 Her Man

Maggie was admitted to a double room in the hospital. While hanging the second bottle of IV fluid, she was in a high fever and after the fever broke, there wasn't much color left in her face.
Just as she finished her clinical treatment and the nurse was arranging the bed, she glanced at her and said, "You're surnamed Green, right? I've seen the programs you hosted on TV."
She gently nodded.
The nurse adjusted the IV flow rate for her and said curiously, "It's strange, your face looks even smaller than what I saw on TV. It's only about the size of a palm. How did you grow up like this?"
Medson walked in, holding a box of vegetarian soup in his hands.
She followed his movements with surprise in her eyes, "Why haven't you gone yet?"
"I'm not leaving," Medson opened the sealed box, "I'll stay here with you so you won't be alone."
"This doesn't make sense. You have the longest driving with the TV's own car. If you don't drive, then who will?" Maggie said.
The plan was for her to stay overnight at the county hospital to prevent any complications, and Medson was supposed to take his colleagues back to ABC according to the original plan.
Maggie was supposed to return to the city by tomorrow. She didn't understand where things went wrong. "If they wanted you to stay, there's no need for that. Don't let it delay your work tomorrow..."
"I volunteered," he said solemnly. Maggie was stunned.
Medson brought the spoon of soup to her lips. "You've taken care of me before, so it's my turn to take care of you this time."
Maggie pursed her lips and moved away, creating distance between them. "You must have misunderstood."
"I don't care about it. You're sick now, and I will take care of you. I'll go back with you when you are discharged tomorrow, okay?" Medson said sincerely and persistently, causing her emotions. She took the bowl of soup and replied, "I can manage on my own."
"The county has arranged for an experienced driver," he said, sitting by her bedside, showing that he was there to watch over her for the entire night. "You don't need to worry."
Maggie didn't want to trouble anyone too much. She accepted his kind gesture and drank the soup, but urged him to leave.
As the evening wore on, a beam of headlights shone through the window of the second-floor ward, illuminating the galvanized board on the wall with slogans. It was dazzling.
Maggie leaned closer to the window and looked down. A black Audi parked in front of the hospital building.
The car door was open, and under a black umbrella, Harold's figure emerged. As he climbed the steps, he bent over and brushed off the dust from his pants.
Maggie panicked as she searched for her shoes. She had informed the nurse, knowing that she couldn't hide it from him, but she hadn't anticipated him coming in person.
Medson stood up. "Do you need to use the bathroom?"
"No..."
The footsteps in the corridor were getting closer. The deputy director took the initiative to open the door, saying, "Secretary, Mrs. Green from the TV station is staying in this ward."
Harold's jacket had caught the chill of the rainy night. He took it off and draped it over the back of a single armchair, his gaze shifting back and forth between her and Medson.
"A caregiver?" he said at Medson. "Then you can leave now."
Perhaps due to just returning to the city and then being transferred to the state, Harold's expression was serious and indifferent.
"I am not..."
Maggie tugged on Medson's sleeve. "He's not a nurse. He's my colleague who has been assigned to understand my condition."
She explained it well, clearing up any lingering ambiguity about their relationship.
Her small action did not escape Harold's eyes. Harold's thoughts were not focused on this at the moment; his gaze lingered on Maggie before gliding past her, staring at her.
Her long hair was loosely braided and fell on her shoulders. Her pale lips were delicate and fragile under her sickly appearance.
The man's expression softened. "Has the fever subsided?"
"Yes, it has."
He approached her, his dry and large palm covering her forehead, still warm from the high fever. "Your colleague can leave. I will stay tonight."
His tone was domineering. Medson looked alert. "Who are you to Maggie?"
Harold leaned back on the armchair, his sitting posture open and forceful, his chest filled with concealed strength. He restrained and said, "I'm her man."
Medson was astonished. He turned his head and stared at Maggie, waiting for her denial.
The atmosphere seemed to freeze in his perception.
Maggie looked back at him. "I told you, you misunderstood me..."
Medson's face was filled with disbelief. "Maggie, didn't you just get divorced?"
She clutched the bedsheet tightly. "It's been almost two months."
Maggie's hand had thin blood vessels, and the nurse had to use a third needle to insert the intravenous drip.
The needle eye appeared on the smooth skin, with a little force, a more bruised-purple mass was revealed.
Harold furrowed his brows, "Is this not over? What other problems are there?"
On Harold's serious face, there was a strong anger, and Medson choked, "Maggie, yo-you take care of yourself."