Erica dissolved into tears. The pent up emotions in her heart seemed to find an outlet. Erica threw herself into her husband's arms and cried bitterly.
Matthew took off his overcoat and wrapped it around her. He inhaled her scent and kissed her long hair gently. "Honey, don't cry," he said, trying to comfort her.
'You won't die without my permission!
If the King of Hell wants you, he'll have to defeat me first!' Matthew thought to himself.
Erica didn't say anything and kept crying.
They just stood by the river, holding each other tightly. The woman choked with sobs, while the man reassuring her.
Occasionally, when someone came near, they couldn't help but take a look at them. The sadness of the two people was replaced by warmth and happiness.
Ten minutes later, Matthew suddenly said, "You still have your test results with you? Let me see them again."
With swollen red eyes, Erica took out the crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to him.
Matthew straightened the paper out so he could read it. On top it said that it was the electronic endoscopy examination report of Y City First General Hospital. He was not in a hurry to read it. Instead, he asked her a question first, "Did they give you anesthetic before the exam?"
"Anesthetic?" The woman was confused.
"Yes!"
Erica thought for a while and answered, "No." They never gave her anything for the pain, nor did they sedate her. Nothing.
Matthew held her in his arms and asked in a trembling voice, "Silly girl, why didn't you opt for the anesthetic?" Usually, these kinds of procedures involve knocking the patient out using some sort of anesthetic. A tube with a camera is inserted in the throat so the doctors can look around the stomach. It's generally painful even when sedated.
Erica didn't know what was going on. They never offered her anything. She hugged him and said sadly, "It doesn't matter. They'll have to use it when I go under the knife!"
Sighing silently, Matthew continued to read the results.
There was a long paragraph in the middle consisting professional medical instructions. He could understand most of them. "Did the doctor say how you might have developed cancer?"
The woman in his arms shook her head. "I was too sad to ask."
"Why not?" Never mind. He would take her to do the examination again. Do it right this time, ask questions. No matter what the result was, they would face it together.
Erica was still drowning in sorrow, a
ith a cold face, Matthew asked the woman in the bed who was having an infusion, "Where did you get the star fruit anyway?"
Realizing that she was in the wrong, the woman tried to make herself as small as possible. "I went to a farmer's market and bought it from an old woman..." She ate it all. It was the size of a baby's fist and tasted sweet and sour.
But it was not her fault. The old lady said the fruit was fresh.
When he heard that, Matthew was really pissed off. His tone became colder and colder. "Don't we have enough fruit at home?"
The walk-in fridge at home was always full since Erica and their four sons were living in the villa together. They had no end of food, including twenty or thirty kinds of fruits.
"All right, all right. It's all my fault. I like to eat. Don't get mad at me!" Fortunately, she got what she wanted. She was trying hard to control her emotions and stop herself from laughing out loud.
The man's sleeves were half rolled up, and he stood by the bed with his hands on his waist. It was obvious that he wanted to settle accounts with her to the end. "Seriously? You're laughing now!" he snapped.
"Can't help it. Sorry?" she said in a weak voice.
Matthew didn't know how to respond. 'What do I do? I can't stay mad at her forever. She's my wife, and I love her more than life itself!' he told himself.
"I need you to write a list of your faults. No less than a thousand words. Don't go to bed until you finish it!" he ordered.
'What?' She hadn't written something like that in more than ten years. Pitifully, she raised her left hand, which an IV needle was taped to, and said, "How about not?"
The source of this c𝐨ntent is fre𝒆w(e)bn(o)vel