Chapter 10 Are You Angry?

After leaving the hospital, I realized that going back to Clearwater Residence to sleep was impractical, so I headed straight to the office instead. Initially, I planned to work, but since I had not slept all night, I just ended up resting in a different location. I slept most of the day in the office and was dragged out for shopping by Sweety in the evening. Sweety was a girl from a middle-class family and had been a reporter at the local TV station. She had recently returned from a long assignment and was given two weeks off as a reward for her good work. She liked to visit me at Scott Corporation and drag me around for random outings. “Yvette, how about we get dinner, go to the spa, and then go to a movie?” She was energetic and had already started planning out our day while stringing me along. I nodded in agreement. My mood had been terrible for the past few days, and going out seemed like a good idea. Hence, Sweety and I started our shopping and eating spree. When Idris called, Sweety and I had just bought our movie tickets and were about to enter the theater. I saw the caller ID and frowned before answering. “What is it?” Idris probably heard the background noise on my end and asked in a cold tone, “Where are you?” “At a movie theater,” I responded, finding a quieter spot near the entrance. He was silent for half a minute before saying in a somewhat chilly tone, “You’re watching a movie?” I nodded, then realized he could not see me and hummed an affirmative before asking, “Is something the matter, Mr. Young?” He seemed to be restraining his emotions. “Yvette, I’m at the hospital.” His tone had a hint of iciness. “I know,” I responded, reminding him that it was I who had signed the hospital forms. After another long pause, he said, “I’m hungry.” I was taken aback and could not help but frown before asking, “Isn’t Moore with you?” He ignored my question and said, “If it’s inconvenient for you, I can ask Mr. Zachary to send a meal over.” I… Why did it have to be Mr. Zachary? This would only make it obvious to the Youngs that while my half-paralyzed husband was in the hospital, I was at a movie theater. Suppressing my irritation, I asked, “What would you like to eat?” It was not that I was afraid of the Youngs, but rather that my parents would find out. With Kane’s temper, he would probably think that I was being willfully ignorant again. “Anything’s fine,” he replied tersely. I hung up and looked at Sweety, who had guessed what was going on and made a face. “You’re not being controlled by a man, are you?” I nodded. She sighed, gestured for me to go, and dramatically said, “Fine, go. I know that even if I can keep you here, I can’t keep your heart. Let me wallow in my misery alone.” Seeing her almost ready to shed tears, I smiled and hugged her, saying, “I’ll make it up to you another day.” After saying goodbye, I left the theater. Idris had probably just gotten out of surgery, so I could not think of anything else he could eat besides plain soup. I went back to Clearwater Residence and cooked some, then headed to the hospital. In the hospital room, Idris was lying on the bed, with Ensio standing respectfully next to him, holding some documents. They seemed to be discussing company matters. I decided to wait outside the room until they were done talking. Eventually, Idris saw me and wrapped up the conversation, asking Ensio to leave. After he left, I walked in, placed the soup next to the bed, and glanced at the man who was confined to his bed. I calmly said, “The doctor said you can’t eat anything else, so make do with this.” Then, I sat down in a nearby chair, wondering if I should leave after delivering the food. Idris glanced at the soup and frowned slightly. After a moment, he looked at me and abruptly said, “It was an emergency at the time. I didn’t think much.” I was puzzled for a moment before realizing he was talking about saving Moore from the car accident. I nodded and responded indifferently, “Mhm.” “Mhm?” He raised an eyebrow, staring intently at me. I did not want to discuss his act of heroism, so I looked at him calmly and said, “The soup’s getting cold.” My response seemed to irritate him, and his eyes darkened as he looked at me. “Yvette, are you angry?” “Nah.” I responded, and without waiting for his answer, I stood up and continued, “You’ve always acted with discretion, Mr. Young. Since you said it was an emergency, you must have had your reasons. Our marriage was a business arrangement to begin with, so I have no right to be angry about who you are fond of or canoodle with in private.” “Fond of? Canoodle with?” His eyes narrowed further, and his face grew even darker. “I didn’t realize you seem to know me better than I know myself.”