Chapter 430 Subtle Emotions
The sky was starting to lighten up. Joshua groggily woke up and felt something was off. It was like an octopus was strangling him, making it hard to breathe.
He struggled to lift his head and, with a buzzing in his ears, saw where Hill's hand was.
Joshua used two fingers to grab Hill's sleeve and yanked it away. Hill, who was supposed to be sleeping on the floor, had somehow ended up beside him, curled up in his arms.
Maybe Hill's pants were too big or she tossed and turned all night, but the pant legs had ridden up to her knees, showing a bit of her slender calf pressed against Joshua's legs.
Joshua gave her a hard shove. She didn't move or wake up.
"Hey, Hill, what are you playing dead for?" Joshua shouted, surprised she hadn't woken up.
Hill finally opened her eyes, looking confused but clear. "What's wrong?"
Joshua, exasperated, asked, "Why are you in bed?"
"The floor's cold, so I came up. Is that a problem?" Hill blinked, looking like she was in the right.
Joshua took a few deep breaths, speechless for a moment. He thought, 'Forget it. We're both guys. No big deal. I've heard close friends sometimes share a bed.'
But Joshua couldn't lie to himself anymore. He really felt Hill's feelings for him were a bit complicated.
The door to the hospital room gently opened. Luann walked in slowly.
The caregiver stood up and greeted her, "Good morning, Ms. Weaver."
Luann looked at Mike, who was sleeping and getting thinner by the day, and softly asked, "How is he?"
The caregiver shook her head. "He's constantly on medication. The first batch of test results came back yesterday, and the treatment isn't working well. It's actually getting worse."
Luann asked, "What medication is he on now?"
The caregiver quickly brought out a big medicine box, like a family-sized one, filled with countless bottles. "These, along with many liquid medications and various treatments."
Mike's mental state had rapidly declined over the past two days, and he was already somewhat delirious.
The caregiver continued, "He only sleeps about three hours a day."
Luann was puzzled. "Three hours?"
The caregiver nodded. "The treatment is so painful that even painkillers don't help. He's constantly vomiting and having diarrhea. He only gets to rest when he's not being treated."
Luann stayed unusually calm. "Got it."
Hearing the commotion, Mike struggled to open his eyes, his bloodshot eyes filled with exhaustion. He had lost weight so quickly. Compared to the last time, his cheeks were now sunken, his complexion was waxy yellow and dark, and his hair was falling out in clumps, leaving only half of what it used to be.
"Luann..." Mike spoke weakly. His voice was faint, making him sound like someone endlessly hovering on the brink of life and death.
His words were filled with hopelessness for life and a longing for death. Now, living was a thousand times more painful than dying.
His arms and hands, wherever his skin was exposed, were covered in countless needle marks, clearly visible, with signs of bruising and discoloration.
"Kill me. Please kill me." Staying here every day was truly a fate worse than death. Sometimes, Mike really wished he could end it all and leave this world. But he couldn't even manage to commit suicide. The caregiver had doubled, with two shifts of twelve hours each. He had completely lost his freedom.
Luann bent down, tucked him in, and smiled gently. "Dad, I told you I won't give up on your treatment. I'll spend countless money as long as you can live longer. This is the filial duty I owe as your daughter."
Mike's facial features began to contort and twist violently, large tears rolling down his cheeks. He truly regretted he was so confident back then, not thoroughly investigating whether Shirley was really dead.
If he had killed Debra and Shirley, then Luann wouldn't have been born, and she wouldn't be here now, tormenting him like this.
Luann said, "Dad, do you want a casket or cremation? If it's a casket, I can have one custom-made soon, and you can choose any material you like. Most are hinged lids, but if you prefer, I can make it a full couch. I heard that green coffins are popular lately; these coffins typically use biodegradable materials, feature simpler designs."
Mike's lips trembled continuously, but he could only make hoarse sounds.
Luann asked, "Dad, why aren't you answering me?"
Mike's eyes rolled back, and his head tilted to the side as he fainted from anger.
Luann straightened up and laughed softly. "Is that all you can handle? Compared to my mom, you've lived so many more years. You should feel fortunate to have died of natural causes."
She glanced at the two caregivers beside her and instructed them, "Keep an eye on him."
When Mike woke up, he was subjected to another round of medical torture. He leaned weakly, struggling to speak. "Give me paper and a pen."
The caregiver immediately brought them over.
Mike's hand trembled as he reached out, struggling for a long time before gripping the pen and writing crookedly on the paper: [After my death, all my assets go to Juliet.]
No matter what, he couldn't let what he had worked so hard to obtain be taken by Luann. That way, he would truly lose all dignity. Even if Juliet didn't treat him well, this would make the two sisters fight each other.
Juliet would surely fight Luann to the end to protect her assets. After finishing, he folded the will and tucked it under his pillow. He didn't know how much longer these painful days would last, but as soon as he found an opportunity, he would definitely end this hopeless life.
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