Chapter 1111: Chapter 1111 She Didn’t Come
"What are you daydreaming about?"
She lifted her head, her eyes like a pond tranquil after rain, the temperature having fallen. A thin layer of mist hovered over the water’s surface, drifting with the wind, blurring her vision.
"Watching the rain."
There was a hint of slowness in her demeanor as she smiled, and the mist in her eyes dispersed.
Arnold raised his hand to wipe a raindrop from her forehead.
The glaring streetlights shone down, the chill of the rain mingled within their light, blurring as it hit the umbrella and hazily enveloping half his body, casting his downcast eyes in exceptional tenderness.
He took her hand again, fully enclosing her slightly cool hand in his palm, "Let’s go."
She smiled, leaning on his arm and stepping onto the stair in front of her, "Arnold, did I sing well today?"
With one hand holding the umbrella and the other steadying her, he answered in a gentle, low voice, "Very well."
Hannah was delighted.
His one compliment was worth a hundred from anyone else.
*
"She didn’t come, did she?"
The weak young man on the hospital bed lifted his head; the oversized hospital gown accentuated his frailty.
Like a delicate white flower that needn’t be beaten by rain, but would break with just a gust of wind.
Roy stood at the door, holding a bouquet of flowers, still in his white suit that lent him an air of elegance and gentility.
He looked down, avoiding Louis’s eyes, and walked over to place the flowers on the table beside him, "Mom and the others have already gone back."
He didn’t answer Louis’s question but instead unthinkingly opened the thermos on the table.
The food inside was still hot.
The servants had just brought it not long ago.
It wasn’t the most fragrant or delicious, and Roy could tell at a glance it wasn’t made by the family chef.
It was his mother’s cooking.
He picked up the chopsticks and began eating slowly, head bowed.
In the empty room, the scent of the food made Louis unconsciously twitch his stiff and cold fingers.
He was still receiving an IV.
Nutritional fluids.
"Heh."
Suddenly, a light chuckle sounded.
It came from the hospital bed.
Louis bowed his head, his overgrown fringe hiding his somewhat somber eyes.
Roy’s hand holding the chopsticks paused slightly, then resumed its usual pace, continuing to focus on the food in his bowl.
He wasn’t a quick eater; his food had only diminished by a small amount in that short while.
There was also soup at the bottom.
It was a soup his mother had taken a long time to prepare, one he only got to drink when he was sick as a child.
His mother always said that only food made by one’s own family carries the taste of home. However, Oliver was protective of Grace, and for nearly thirty years, he had taken care of all the cooking himself.
Grace rarely entered the kitchen.
Not getting a response from Roy, Louis couldn’t help but let out another light laugh.
This time, the laughter carried a hint of scorn.
"She didn’t come, did she?"
He was persistent.
Roy did not look up, "She won’t come."
He laughed again, his laughter filled with full-fledged self-mockery and bitterness, "She’s really heartless, isn’t she? Does she really want me to die before she’s willing to come see me?"
Roy was silent, lifting a piece of white radish from the stew to his mouth.
He had heard this sentence before.
Only Hannah had said that she would remember to set off fireworks at Louis’s grave.
He didn’t think Hannah was heartless. If it weren’t for the many years of etiquette training that restrained his actions, he too would have liked to do that.
But what he thought of was putting Louis in a sack and beating him up.
He liked Hannah very much because she reminded him of the kites he flew as a child.
