Andrew, looking sheepish, scratched his head like a kid caught in a misstep.
With a sigh, I grasped his arm and guided him back to his hospital room.
Upon entering, my eyes landed on a familiar food box resting at the head of his bed.
I paused, taken aback, as it dawned on me that it was mine. But hadnt that bodyguard flung it to a corner at the hospital entrance?
Andrew appeared clueless about its tumultuous journey as he eagerly lifted the lid. The enticing aroma wafted out, prompting him to exclaim, This smells incredible! It must taste as good as it smells. You really have a knack for cooking!
In a hesitant tone, I inquired, That bodyguard kicked the box earlier. Are you sure its still okay to eat?
The box isnt damaged, and the food inside looks fine. Why wouldnt I eat it? Plus, you made this for me. I cant let it go to waste, Andrew replied nonchalantly.
After he ladled himself some soup, he offered, Do you want some?
Having had breakfast earlier, I wasnt hungry. I shook my head and responded, No, thanks. Go ahead and enjoy.
Okay, Andrew responded, his smile broad as he began to eat.
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He seemed thoroughly pleased with the meal, so much so that I found myself wondering if it was really that good.
However, I brushed aside those thoughts to address something more pressing.
How is Shirley doing these days?
A shadow fell across Andrews face, and his tone was tinged with distaste.
I dont know, and you shouldnt worry about it either. Ill take care of it.
I chose not to press further, trusting Andrews assurance that he would handle the situation.
However, with that topic exhausted, an awkward silence descended upon the room.
The air between us grew tense, our relationship awkward enough without the added pressure of solitude. To escape the discomfort, I moved to the window to take in the view outside.
Eventually, Andrew polished off the meal I had prepared. Thank you, he said, a satisfied note in his voice. Everything was delicious. Thanks for cooking.
I offered a smile. Ill bring more tomorrow.
But Andrew shook his head, declining the offer. No, thank you. The hospital might get a bit chaotic these days. Its best you stay at the manor. Theres no need to come back here.
Addys POV:
I stood by Shirleys bed in the ward, observing her with deep concern.
This was the premier VIP ward of the witch clan. Sunlight streamed through the expansive French windows, bathing the room in a warm glow while the scent of fresh flowers subtly perfumed the air.