Chapter 580 Accompanying in Bed
George tightened his grip. "I'm here to see the mother of my child. You should be the one to leave."
Their eyes locked in a fierce standoff, neither willing to back down. The takeout containers in their hands trembled slightly, as if they might drop at any moment.
"Enough!" Emma suddenly raised her voice, startling both Seraphine and Lucas. She quickly softened her tone. "Seraphine, Lucas, can you go to the nurse's station and ask for a cup of warm water for Mommy?"
Seraphine nodded and took Lucas's hand, leading him out. Lucas glanced back worriedly at George, hoping his dad wouldn't get hurt again after just recovering.
As soon as the kids left the room, Emma's expression darkened. She looked at the tense George and Michael, rubbing her temples wearily.
"Can you two not do this in front of the kids?" she said in a low voice. "Seraphine and Lucas are already so confused."
Michael took a deep breath, trying to suppress his anger. He turned and poured a glass of water for Emma, handing it to her gently. "The doctor said you can be discharged tomorrow. I've arranged for a car to pick you up."
George stepped forward immediately. "No need. I'll personally take Emma home."
"Home?" Michael sneered. "You mean that hostile place? Do you know how unpredictable your mother is? Do you remember that you and Emma are divorced? Emma is safe at the Stuart Villa."
Emma saw the argument brewing again and was about to intervene when the door opened. Lucas and Seraphine came in, carefully carrying a cup of water.
"Mommy, drink some water," Lucas said, handing the cup to Emma.
"Thank you, sweetheart." Emma gently patted Lucas's head.
Seraphine yawned and rubbed her eyes, snuggling into Michael's arms. "Daddy, I'm sleepy."
Michael picked her up, patting her back softly. "How about we go home and sleep?"
"Okay," Seraphine mumbled, her eyes barely open. "I want Daddy to tuck me in."
Lucas stood by the bed, clutching Emma's blanket tightly. "Mommy, I don't want us to be apart," he said quietly but firmly.
The three adults were stunned by his words. Emma's eyes reddened instantly, and she pulled Lucas into a hug. "Sweetheart, Mommy won't leave you."
George looked at Lucas's determined little face, feeling a pang of sadness. He knelt to meet Lucas's eyes. "Lucas, do you want to be with both Mommy and Daddy?"
Lucas nodded, his eyes full of hope.
Michael's expression darkened, but he held back his anger, hugging the drowsy Seraphine tighter.
Emma looked at Seraphine and Lucas, making a decision. "Michael, Seraphine is tired. You should take her home to rest." She turned to George. "You and Lucas stay. I have some things to discuss with you."
Michael's eyes flashed with a hint of gloom, but he quickly masked it. "Alright, I'll come to pick you up tomorrow morning." He looked down at Seraphine. "Say goodnight to Mommy."
Seraphine waved sleepily at Emma. "Goodnight, Mommy. Goodnight, Daddy." Her head rested on Michael's shoulder, already half-asleep.
Before leaving, Michael gave George a meaningful look. "I'll be here to take Emma home tomorrow. Don't interfere."
George responded coldly. "Don't trouble yourself."
After the door closed, the tension in the room eased slightly. Emma exhaled deeply, leaning back against the pillow with her eyes closed.
Lucas, sensing his mother's fatigue, gently tugged on George's sleeve. "Dad, Mom needs to eat."
George remembered the takeout containers and quickly opened them. The food was still warm. He carefully ladled some soup into a bowl. "Emma, have some soup first."
Emma shook her head. "I can do it myself."
"Mom, your hand is shaking," Lucas pointed out, his face full of concern. "Let Dad help you."
Emma noticed her right hand trembling slightly from the IV. She smiled wryly. "Alright, thank you."
George carefully spooned some soup, blowing on it to cool it down, before bringing it to Emma's lips. Lucas stood by, watching intently like a little supervisor.
"Is it too hot?" Lucas asked.
Emma smiled and shook her head. "It's just right."
Under Lucas's "supervision," George patiently fed Emma her dinner. Lucas even remembered the doctor's instructions about the medication, retrieving the pills from the second drawer and pouring a cup of warm water.
"Mom, it's time for your medicine," Lucas said seriously, like a little adult.
Emma took the pills, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Lucas. You're Mommy's little angel."
Lucas blushed, but couldn't help smiling.
After a long day of playing and then taking care of Emma, Lucas was exhausted. As soon as it got dark, he fell asleep on the couch in the hospital room.
The room was quiet, with only the steady beeping of the monitors.
Lucas curled up on the couch, his face buried in a pillow, breathing evenly. George gently covered him with a blanket, making sure he was comfortable before turning to Emma.
The setting sun cast a warm glow through the curtains, highlighting Emma's pale face. George's heart ached. She looked thinner, with dark circles under her eyes and lips paler than he remembered.
"Do you want to freshen up?" George asked softly, pointing to the beads of sweat on Emma's forehead.
Emma instinctively wanted to refuse, but seeing the warm, damp towel in his hand, she nodded. George's touch was incredibly gentle, as if handling a fragile treasure. He wiped her forehead, cheeks, and neck with meticulous care.
When the towel brushed behind her ear, Emma shivered involuntarily. That spot had always been sensitive. George used to kiss her there, making her melt every time. Clearly, he remembered, too.
"You still remember?" George chuckled, his voice resonating like a cello in the night.
Emma turned her face away, but George gently turned it back with his finger. His thumb brushed her lower lip, his gaze intense. "Don't hide from me."
"George," she trembled, "Lucas is here."
"He's sleeping soundly," George whispered, his breath warm against her ear. "And we're not doing anything, are we?"
When his lips touched her earlobe, Emma tensed, her fingers gripping the sheets. Logic told her to push him away, but her body betrayed her, softening under his familiar touch.
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