Chapter 33: Recovery

A female doctor walked out of the emergency room, glancing at the shivering driver who squatted on the ground, and looked at the intimidating men in the corridor and said, "Can you be quiet?"

"How is he?" I asked although I didn't want to hear the answer.

"He is ok. Thanks to his good physical fitness or he would have died by now!" she said.

I was relieved. I had never been so grateful. The most crucial thing was that Jonathan was still alive!

The female doctor continued, "Just a leg and three ribs were fractured, he also has excessive bleeding."

"What the hell does that mean?" Troy wanted to know.

"Such wounds can't be regarded as a big deal for you, isn't that right?" he asked. "You..."

Just as he was about to speak, the man behind him stopped him, "Boss, take it easy. She is the doctor."

After the doctor left, Troy murmured:" Examine the background of that woman, let her remember my name, Troy Yang, forever."

When Jonathan came out of the operating room, he was in a coma, until late that night, then he woke up. He did not moan, but he was sweating.

"Is it painful?" I asked as I held his cold hands. They were not as warm as usual. He opened his mouth and made a faint sound. I couldn't hear him, but I could guess what he said.

He said, "I'm fine. I'm not hurt at all." He smiled with relief, the sweat from his forehead rolling down in large drops. The doctor said it was an observation period and he wasn't allowed to take painkillers. I could only sit by his side and hold one of his fingers tightly like when I was a child.

Maybe he was in too much pain, he spoke a lot all night. He said, "Why would you rather die than be with me? If you really can't forget him, I won't force you again." Then he told me that Steven was waiting to complete his degree and that he was going to be back.

He added, "I've experienced too much struggle in my life, all the people I care about left me one after another. You are my beloved woman who I care about most, even if you do not love me, please don't leave me and stay by my side as time passes."

I didn't say a word, my tears dropped onto the sheet as I lay beside his pillow listening to him mumble. I loved him too. Consequently, this relationship was doomed to have an unhappy ending.

The next day, when I went to fetch daily goods for Jonathan, Troy was chatting with him in his room. He had taken painkillers and he seemed better. "I admire you!" Troy said indignantly, "Risking your life to save her. Thanks to the driver who braked from five meters, you could have been lying in a mortuary."

Troy pulled the chair and sat closer, and smiling wickedly she said, "How has it been since you touched a woman that you had to go and watch a movie like Instinct?"

"It was boring... I almost fell asleep." Jonathan said.

"You should leave that teenager alone, let me give you a few tips in my spare time," Troy said.

"You?" Jonathan said, "How many women have you chased?"

"One!" Troy paused for a second, smiled proudly and said, "That must be more than you!"

I didn't know how to describe them if two young men in their twenties said such words, I could understand it. However, for older men to talk like that, I couldn't figure out their thoughts!

When I was about to open the door, I heard Troy say, "By the way, don't you think your little mistress looks like someone?"

"Who?" Jonathan asked.

"It is... " he hesitated for a moment and said, "Nothing."

To take care of Jonathan, I asked for leave from school and added a bed next to him. When I arranged for someone to move the bed into the room, he glanced at it and did not comment. Somehow Troy burst out laughing.

During that short period, I kept him company him every day, feeding him, helping him wash his face and read the newspaper, sometimes I helped him change his clothes, and wiped the sweat off his body with a warm towel.

He had a much better build than I thought. He had bronzed skin and healthy and sturdy shape. There were a lot of bruises and scars on his body, which added a masculine charm. When I wiped his chest, he gritted his teeth and frowned. "Did I hurt you?" I asked.

He pulled me over suddenly. Before I could respond, he hugged me and pressed his lips on mine aggressively. I tried to break away, but as soon as I thought of his fractures, I didn't want to hurt him and let him kiss me.

When kissed by him, my brain became dizzy and blank. I lost my ability to think. It became more and more fierce so that I put my fingers into his hair and touched his face unconsciously. His skin was smooth and fresh...

The smell of disinfectant became sweet and refreshing, and the beautiful white wards were like a dream. I secretly prayed that the kiss would not end. He seemed to hear my prayer to let the sweet taste continues. I guessed that we would have carried on if it hadn't been for the noise which disturbed us. Something crashed as it fell onto the floor.

I got up in a hurry and turned to face the door. It was Police Marcel. He looked stunned, angry and full of grief. I could understand that he would be stunned seeing a man in his thirties embrace and kiss his teenage daughter so passionately. As for the other expressions, I couldn't figure them out.

Jonathan looked at him with a sneer and asked, "Police Marcel, how do you have free time today? Is it routine, or visiting?"

"You... You... " after recovering, he said the word 'you', several times, which still didn't express how astonished he was!

Jonathan kindly helped him to say the following words: "Incest? Isn't that right?"

"How can you do such a thing?" the officer said. He was so furious that he couldn't speak for a long time, then he turned and left.

I helped Jonathan put on his clothes, do up his buttons, and helped him lie down. "Why don't you tell him that I am not your daughter at all?" I asked.

"Why should I tell him?" he replied.

I looked at him with a smile and thought he was a bit childish. I picked up the nutritional products which had fallen, but Jonathan just told me to throw them away. Just as I was about to go out, he stopped me and said, "It's a waste to throw them away, I can use some of them." I couldn't help but laugh.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked.

"Nothing, I think your attitude is similar to the way you are treating your father!" I said. As soon as the words came out, I found them a little improper, so I quickly apologized: "Sorry," I said.

"That's okay!" he sighed, then said, "In fact, he's my father!"