Chapter 7
Dr. Harrison saw my nervousness and gave me a reassuring smile, then lowered his head to look at the medical records.
“Last night, I discussed with several chief physicians from the surgery department and we unanimously recommend:”
“Mr. Grona needs to receive customized rehabilitation therapy going forward, otherwise it will be very difficult to recover to his previous state.”
“It’s just that the cost is a bit high, about 150,000 per month.”
150,000 was an astronomical figure for me now, but I didn’t hesitate to open my mouth:
“We accept the treatment.”
Dr. Harrison closed the medical records and was about to speak when a cold voice sounded from across:
“Grona.”
It was Arlo. Arlo was dressed in business attire, looking like he had come from the
company.
He walked towards us, his calfskin shoes making crisp sounds on the hallway floor. Shortly after, Arlo came up to them and extended his hand, his voice lazy with a hint of contempt.
“Why aren’t you staying properly at home? What are you doing here?”
Guessing he probably hadn’t had time to go home for several days in a row, having been by someone else’s side, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of weariness. Not wanting to show a black face in front of others, I could only turn to leave.
Arlo saw me leave and followed. We walked towards the ward together neither of us speaking. Ever since I wanted a divorce, I no longer carefully tried to please him and make him happy like before. Near the ward door, Arlo suddenly grabbed my hand, trapping me between himself and the wall.
His gaze was complex, his voice hoarse: “What did you talk about with him?”
I wanted to break free, but Arlo used a bit more force and I was pressed back again.
“Arlo, this is a hospital.”
“I know, of course.”
Arlo didn’t budge. He pressed his body tightly against mine. His face was also pressed close to my ear, his voice carrying a hint of danger. I guessed his hidden thoughts. As the CEO of Brown Group, With status and position, he wouldn’t allow his wife to be too close to other men.
I smiled bitterly: “Arlo, I don’t have your filthy thoughts. I don’t have that mood either.”
“Rest assured, before we divorce, I won’t get involved with anyone else.”
After saying that, I pushed him away and turned to enter the ward. Arlo followed, pushing open the door. As soon as he entered, he frowned: “It’s actually not even a private room.”
My stepmother brought over a chair, speaking softly: “Sit down quickly. I’ll have Grona cut some fruit for you.“”
For the sake of my dad’s health, I could only reluctantly serve Arlo.