Chapter 780 Sam, You're Awake
Tonight, he would sleep alone.
There was a sense of melancholy in his heart.
He had long been accustomed to her being by his side.
Kelvin took out his phone and saw a message from Penelope.
Penelope: [Sam's condition is currently very stable, nothing serious. Get some rest at home and take good care of Lucy. Don't tell her about Sam's injury; she'll worry.]
He didn't reply, afraid of disturbing her.
He just looked at the message, over and over again. He felt calm and reassured.
At that moment, Kelvin suddenly realized something.
He and Penelope would definitely have a future.
The person she loved was definitely him.
Not Brandon!
He and she had a lifetime ahead of them!
There was plenty of time!
How could Penelope love Brandon?
It was clear that Brandon liked her, but she didn't like him!
Staring into the endless night, Kelvin gripped his phone tightly.
It turned out that what he wanted most, he had already obtained.
He just didn't know it.
So slow to realize!
Hospital, ward.
It was dawn. Sunlight streamed in through the window.
Penelope was dozing off by the bedside.
She had originally been sleeping on the sofa, but in the middle of the night, as the anesthesia and painkillers began to wear off, Sam kept talking.
He would cry out in pain, then say he was thirsty, constantly talking in his sleep.
To take better care of him, Penelope stayed by the bedside so that she could immediately know if he moved or spoke.
Penelope had hardly slept, and only now could she catch a brief nap.
"My neck hurts," Sam started to murmur again, raising his hand to touch the wound.
Hearing the sound, Penelope immediately lifted her head and grabbed his wrist, "Sam, you can't touch it, don't move."
Under her soothing, Sam gradually quieted down.
Penelope glanced out the window; the daylight was bright, almost blinding.
She drew the curtains and washed her face with cold water to wake herself up.
Looking at herself in the mirror, her eyes were red, and her voice was still hoarse.
Penelope swallowed, her throat dry and sore.
Yesterday, she had screamed too hard, too heart-wrenchingly. In such a thrilling and sorrowful moment, how could she have cared about these things?
Her heart was entirely with Sam.
"So haggard, when Sam wakes up and sees me like this, he'll definitely say something," Penelope patted her face, "I'll put on some light makeup."
She rarely wore makeup, usually going bare-faced, but still looked fresh and gentle.
Not at all like a mother of two.
When Penelope came out of the bathroom, she saw that Sam had already opened his eyes.
He was lying there quietly, not speaking, breathing steadily, staring at the ceiling.
"Sam!" Penelope said in surprise, "You're awake!"
Hearing her voice, Sam looked at her.
But as he moved, his neck moved too, pulling at the wound, making him wince in pain.
"I'll call the doctor," Penelope quickly ran to the bedside and pressed the call button, "Don't move, I know the wound hurts, just bear with it for a bit."
Sam stared at her without blinking, "Penelope?"
"Yes, it's me. Don't you recognize me?"
Sam gave a slight smile, "How could I not? I just think you're so beautiful, I almost didn't recognize you."
Sam was still the same Sam.
Even in this situation, injured as he was, he still tried to make her happy.
Penelope couldn't help but laugh, a sweet laugh.
Sam was brave, intact, and mentally strong and healthy!
Isabella's kidnapping wouldn't leave any shadow on him!
It would only accelerate his growth! Train him to respond to danger!
The doctor came over with a large group of people, surrounding the bed and examining him for a long time. Finally, he said, "We can remove the oxygen mask now. The head nurse will prepare to change the dressing."
Penelope asked, "He won't have any more problems, right?"
"No, he just needs to rest well, change the dressing on time, avoid water, ensure nutrition, and eat more vegetables."
The head nurse brought a tray and skillfully began to change Sam's dressing.
Penelope watched from the side.
Layer by layer, the gauze was unwrapped. The last layer was stained with blood and stuck to the wound.
The head nurse used a cotton swab to gently separate the gauze from the wound bit by bit.
It looked painful!
Penelope quickly held Sam's hand, "Bear with it, it'll be done soon."
Thinking about the next week, when Sam would have to change the dressing every day and endure this pain, she felt heartbroken.
Tears welled up in her eyes.
"Penelope," Sam said, "the wound doesn't hurt, but you're holding my hand too tight, it hurts."
She was stunned and immediately let go.
But Penelope quickly realized that Sam was comforting her, trying to change the subject.
How much strength could she have? How could she hurt him?
"Silly boy," Penelope sniffled, holding back her tears, "How could I have such a loving son like you?"
As the gauze was completely removed, the wounds on Sam's neck were fully exposed.
The moment Penelope saw them, only one phrase flashed through her mind.
Skin and flesh torn apart.
Three or four wounds, each several inches long, crisscrossed on Sam's neck like ugly worms.
Each one was made by Isabella, right before Penelope's eyes.
Penelope couldn't hold back any longer and turned away to wipe her tears.
"It's okay, Penelope, it only hurts a little, just a little," Sam said, "When I think that between the two of us, one of us would get hurt, and it's me, not you, I feel very satisfied."
"I'm still young, I recover quickly. These wounds are nothing; in a couple of years, you won't even find a trace."
"But you're different, you're a woman with delicate skin. If you got hurt, I'd feel heartbroken."
If the wounds weren't on him, they would be on Penelope.
He would rather take those cuts for Penelope!
"Sam," Penelope said, her voice choked, "I wish the one who got hurt was me."
"You're the silly one, Mom. Nobody wishes to get hurt." Sam laughed, "How can you call me a silly boy?"
Penelope quickly blinked her eyes, wiping away her tears, and turned back to look at him.
The head nurse had finished treating the wound on his neck and was reapplying the gauze.
Besides this wound, Sam had more than a dozen minor injuries on his body.
On his arms, back, and shoulders were marks made by Isabella's knife.
Seeing so many wounds on his small body, Penelope couldn't help but feel guilty.
Why didn't she stop Sam from taking her place?
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