Chapter 647 What Did She See?
Realizing that communication between the two was impossible, Quentin chose not to continue.
"Fine, I hope you keep your word."
With that, he reached for the soup bowl.
Just as he was about to drink it all in one go, Caroline suddenly placed her hand on his, smiling as she said, "I meant, let me feed you this soup."
"Is that necessary?" Quentin looked at her coldly.
With a bitter smile, she replied, "Maybe not for you, but it is for me."
"Alright then!" Quentin nodded in agreement.
He just wanted her to leave as soon as possible.
Before long, the room was enveloped in silence. Inside, a beautiful and harmonious scene unfolded.
Caroline sat on the bed, holding the bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other, gently feeding him the soup.
Quentin cooperated, drinking quickly, one spoonful after another. He swallowed each spoonful effortlessly.
He drank each spoonful with ease, not even frowning.
Willie stood quietly by the side, attending to them.
Grace, holding a thermos, walked to the door and saw this scene through the window.
In an instant, Grace's eyes stung.
A sudden wave of emotion washed over her, a swelling, sour sensation that hinted at tears just beneath the surface.
It was gentle, beautiful, harmonious, loving...
Perhaps all the lovely words suitable for couples could be used to describe them.
Grace stood there, clutching the thermos tightly.
At that moment, the thermos felt as heavy as a ton, weighing down on it almost to the point of suffocation.
Grace didn't seem to feel pain or hurt; instead, a deep, sinking sensation settled in her heart, persistently pulling her down.
Grace couldn't shout or call out.
She didn't even have the right to take a step forward and enter.
After all, what status did Grace have?
But it was Quentin who had Gabriel tell Grace that he wanted to drink the soup she made and wanted to see her.
So Grace had gone to the market at dawn to buy ingredients and had been busy in the kitchen until now.
She hadn't even had breakfast. As soon as the soup was ready, she packed it up and rushed over in a cab, just so he could have the freshest taste.
But Grace could only watch as Caroline fed him.
'Quentin, since you already had someone bringing you soup, and you had already drunk someone else's soup, why did you want me to come?'
'Is it just to toy with me?'
'Because I'm not important, have no status, no identity, so you could play with my feelings like this?' Grace thought.
While feeding the soup, Caroline was very patient and gentle.
Almost every spoonful, she would blow on it until it wasn't hot before feeding it to Quentin.
And just like that, Grace watched the entire process unfold without crying, observing from outside the window like a bystander.
When Caroline put down the bowl, Grace quickly turned around, holding the thermos, and ran frantically towards the elevator.
"I've finished. You can leave now!"
As soon as Caroline fed the last spoonful, Quentin coldly ordered her to leave.
Caroline looked at him with a bitter smile. "You are straightforward, telling me to leave as soon as I'm done."
"Fine, since I promised you, I'll keep my word."
"But I'll come to the hospital to bring you soup again tomorrow, until you recover."
With that, Caroline packed up the thermos and left.
The nurses at the station were puzzled to see two women coming out of the same room, one after the other.
So the nurses discussed it for a bit.
Just then, Quentin needed a dressing change. After the nurse finished, she reminded him, "Mr. Taft, your wound is healing. Although drinking more soup can help with recovery, it should be in moderation. Too much can be harmful."
Hearing it was related to Quentin's health, Willie immediately asked with concern, "Thank you for the reminder, but Mr. Taft only had one bowl of soup today. That's not too much, right?"
The nurse was puzzled, "One bowl? We just saw two women bringing soup to Mr. Taft."
"What do you mean by two women? Please clarify."This time, Quentin reacted quickly.
"First, a woman in a purple dress came earlier; then, half an hour later, another woman in a white dress came."
"Although she was wearing a mask and sunglasses, from her figure, it was clear she was a beauty."
Quentin immediately looked at Willie, "Check the surveillance right now. I need to know if it was her."
A few minutes later, Willie returned, "Mr. Taft, Ms. Morgan did come to bring you soup."
Quentin waved his hand, decisively instructing, "Arrange for my discharge."
"Mr. Taft, your wound hasn't healed yet. You can't be discharged."
"I'll say it again, I want to be discharged, now, immediately."
Willie was worried about his health, so he stood there without moving.
Quentin didn't say another word.
He got up and started walking out, "If you don't arrange it, I'll do it myself."
Hearing this, Willie immediately stopped him, "Mr. Taft, please wait. I'll arrange it right away."
Ten minutes later, Quentin's discharge was arranged, and his car was already parked outside the hospital.
Soon, with Willie's help, he got into the car.
"Take me home," he instructed.
On the other side.
Grace, holding the thermos, ran out of the hospital.
But once outside, looking at the bustling street filled with people, Grace suddenly didn't know where to go.
If only she could go anywhere she wanted!
But she knew that Quentin was just injured and in the hospital. Once he was out, no matter where she went, even to the ends of the earth, he would find her.
Thinking this way, except for that place, she seemed to have nowhere else to go.
She was truly pitiful.
She didn't want to go back now.
While crossing the street, perhaps because she was distracted, she walked very slowly.
So when she was halfway across, the light turned red.
But the cars didn't wait for her, they just accelerated forward.
Suddenly, a car braked sharply and the horn blared.
Pulled back to reality, Grace was startled, her hands shook. The thermos fell to the ground and the meat scattered everywhere.
The whole scene was a mess.
More importantly, almost half of the soup spilled on her white dress, leaving it stained with oil, even though it wasn't greasy.
At that moment, she looked awful.
As for the burning sensation from the soup, she might have been numb to it.
She only felt a burning pain in a few spots on her arm and thigh.
People around her shouted angrily, "Damn it, watch where you're going!"
"Bad luck, next time just get hit."
Grace didn't argue with them. Holding the thermos, she quickly ran to the other side of the street.
The whole process was a frantic escape.
Looking down at the thermos in her hands, she suddenly couldn't hold back anymore and started crying.
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