Chapter 9

"Stop talking. You should go now. I know what I'm doing." Scarlett's tone was final, leaving no room for argument. Grace sighed, turned around, and left. She had already said everything there was to say. Scarlett glanced down at the black card in her hand, her expression betraying a flicker of displeasure. … Meanwhile, Leroy returned home late that night. As soon as he opened the door, he was greeted by Stephan and Olivia, both staring at him with wide-eyed expectation. The intensity of their gazes made the scene feel oddly unsettling. "Dad, Mom, you're still up?" Leroy asked, avoiding their eyes. Olivia quickly crossed the room toward him, curiosity lighting up her face. "How was the date today? Any progress?" Leroy shook his head helplessly. "Mom, it wasn't a date. It was just dinner between friends. Didn't you just say that earlier?" Olivia laughed awkwardly, brushing the moment aside with a wave. "Right, right. Just a simple dinner. But still, you should keep in touch with that girl. Build a connection." From his seat, Stephan took a measured sip of his coffee, nodding in quiet approval. Leroy had no choice but to lower his head and retreat to his room. After tidying up a bit, he was just about to call it a night when his phone chimed. A message from Yvonne lit up the screen. "Leroy, I had a great time hanging out with you today. I hope we'll have more chances in the future." Unconsciously, a small smile crept onto Leroy's face, but it didn't last long. The smile faded, replaced by a conflicted look. "She's such a good girl, someone you wouldn't find anywhere else. But me…" he thought to himself. After a long pause, he finally typed out a neutral response. "Maybe next time." Miles away, Yvonne read the message, her expression flickering briefly with disappointment. The feeling, however, passed as quickly as it had come. Determination settled in her gaze as she whispered to herself, "Come on, you can do this!" The next morning, Leroy woke up early and prepared a hearty breakfast for Stephan and Olivia. For seven years, he had cooked every single meal for Scarlett, just because she once mentioned she couldn't get used to food from outside. Yet, in all that time, he had never made a proper meal for his parents. Looking back now, he realized how much he owed them. When Stephan and Olivia woke up and saw the spread on the table, their faces lit up with surprise and delight. "Wow. You made this? It looks great! Way better than your mom's cooking!" Stephan exclaimed with a grin. Olivia quickly chimed in without missing a beat, "Of course! That's what they call besting the mentor. What can you do? He clearly inherited my excellent skills!" With parents like these—always able to lighten the mood—the moment became even more precious. But after breakfast, Olivia's expression turned serious. "Leroy, you're so busy with work. You should take better care of yourself. Don't bother cooking for us anymore." "Exactly. Your mom and I can handle this stuff. We're still strong and healthy, you know," Stephan added. Leroy paused, a pang of sadness hitting him. "Dad, Mom, I was immature before. From now on, let me take care of you." Before they could protest, he grabbed his bag and left the house, leaving them no room to argue. Stephan and Olivia exchanged a look. "Leroy has grown up. He's thinking about us now," Stephan said. But Olivia choked up, revealing what was truly on her mind."He's such an outstanding son… so why did he have to go through something like this?" Stephan froze, his appetite gone as he stared at the food on his plate. … At the hospital, Leroy buried himself in work. He didn't just complete his responsibilities, he helped his coworkers with theirs as well. One surgery after another, each one handled personally. Afterward, he monitored his patients' recovery, making sure everything was progressing smoothly. By the time the fifth surgery was done, Leroy collapsed into a chair, completely drained. His pale face spoke volumes, enough to draw sympathy from anyone who saw him. He had thought throwing himself into work would numb the pain. But the deeper he tried, the stronger the pain seemed to grow. Suddenly, a steaming cup of coffee appeared in front of him. "Mr. Olson, have some." Leroy turned to see a young woman standing there, her face fresh and sweet, framed by a short bob haircut. It was Zoe Black, a recent graduate from the Ashbourne Institute of Medical Sciences. She had been personally assigned by the director to work as his assistant and apprentice. Zoe propped her chin up with both hands, her big eyes blinking curiously. "Mr. Olson, why do you push yourself so hard? The director already gave you time off, you could go home and rest. Besides, I heard…" She hesitated, biting her lip before finally blurting it out. "You just got divorced. It must be hard for you. You should take some time off." Leroy forced a faint smile. "Not at all. You're overthinking it." Zoe pouted, clearly unconvinced. "Mr. Olson, don't try to fool me. I took psychology courses in school, you know. What you're experiencing right now—well, it's pretty much what we call post-divorce syndrome." Leroy rubbed his aching forehead. "Alright, alright. What does a little girl like you know? I'm really fine." "Just remember, if you need to talk, I'm here for you! I'm no psychology expert, but I'm a good listener," Zoe said earnestly. Leroy shook his head, knowing full well he couldn't win against her persistence. He leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to rest for just a moment. But as soon as he did, that familiar face appeared in his mind, as vivid as ever. His eyes snapped open, and a bitter smile tugged at his lips. "Am I really torturing myself like this?" he thought. Just then, a shadow passed quickly by the door. The figure disappeared in an instant, but Leroy's sharp instincts didn't miss it. He rubbed his eyes, disbelief flickering across his face. Was he so exhausted that he was starting to hallucinate? Before he could think twice, Leroy got up and followed after the figure. Scarlett lay on the hospital bed, her face twisted in pain. Standing beside her was Cedric, his voice echoing through the hallway as he shouted for help. "Doctor! Where are the doctors? Hurry up!" Two doctors rushed over, one of them asking sharply, "What's going on?" "How would I know what's going on? She was discharged from your hospital just a couple of days ago. The test results said nothing was wrong! And now look at her! Are you going to take responsibility for this?" Cedric snapped. The doctor who had previously handled Scarlett's case stepped forward. "Sir, Ms. Payne's earlier examination was for her legs. The pain she's experiencing now is in her abdomen, what does that have to do with us? Perhaps, you should ask what Ms. Payne ate last night. It's likely she just ate something bad." Cedric froze. He had been out late shopping last night, how was he supposed to know what Scarlett had eaten? "I don't care! This is your hospital's fault, and you need to give me an explanation!" he shouted. The doctors ignored his outburst, their focus shifting back to Scarlett. "Ms. Payne, what did you eat last night?" one of them asked gently. Scarlett clutched her abdomen, her face pale and contorted with pain, too weak to answer. Just then, Leroy arrived, his expression tight with worry as he rushed to her side. "You didn't eat dinner last night, did you? And you drank alcohol!" Scarlett nodded faintly, her pale, vulnerable face tugging at the heart. Leroy clenched his fists, his frustration barely contained. "Get her to the emergency room. I'll handle this myself!" "Understood!" As the nurse wheeled Scarlett toward the emergency room, she turned instinctively to look at Leroy. Gone was her usual tough, unyielding demeanor, her expression was fragile, her gaze searching. As always, it was he who understood her best.