Chapter 4

Lucia's POV

Only Holden and I remained in the hospital room.

I walked toward the bed.

Holden was leaning against the headboard, his hand wrapped in thick bandages particularly conspicuous.

Seeing me approach, he instinctively adjusted his position, displaying the injury more prominently.

He seemed almost like he was acting cute with me, struggling to lift his hand as he said,

"Lucia, it hurts a bit."

In the past, I would have already had tears in my eyes.

I would have felt more distress for his hand than he felt for himself.

But I just stopped at the foot of his bed and glanced indifferently at that hand.

"What did the doctor say?"

I asked.

Holden froze.

He frowned, seeming very dissatisfied with my reaction, his tone growing heavy.

"Five stitches. The tendon almost severed."

I nodded.

"Then rest up properly."

After saying that, I had nothing more to add.

Holden's expression grew visibly darker.

He stared at me, anger creeping into his voice.

"My hand was almost ruined, and this is your reaction?"

"What else?"

I looked at him, finding it amusing.

"Do you want me to cry for you? Or go to church and pray for you?"

Holden was momentarily speechless, then let out a cold laugh.

"I know what you're mad about. It's because I got injured saving Vivienne, isn't it?"

"Lucia, can you not be so narrow-minded? Vivienne was surrounded by creeps. The situation was urgent. What was I supposed to do, just ignore it?"

"Can you be a little more generous and stop obsessing over these little things?"

In the past when I heard this kind of talk, I would rush to explain myself.

But now, I just felt tired.

"I'm not bothered at all. I think your actions were great."

"Besides, who you choose to save is your freedom. If you get hurt, you're the one in pain. I can't feel it for you, can I?"

Holden was stunned.

I continued,

"If you're still in pain, call a doctor. I'm not a doctor. I can't make it stop hurting."

He opened his mouth, his eyes full of disbelief.

He'd never seen me like this before.

His reaction suggested he'd been expecting me to fuss over him anxiously like I used to.

But he didn't like me that way.

After all, just last year, he got his hand caught in a door blown by the wind.

I was terrified and insisted on dragging him to the hospital for a checkup.

He shook off my hand, looking completely impatient.

"Can you not make such a big deal out of everything? Does this little injury really warrant this? Going to the hospital would just be embarrassing."

Snapping back to the present, the hospital room door was pushed open.

Vivienne came in with red-rimmed eyes, carrying a takeout container.

As soon as Vivienne entered, she placed the thermos by the bedside and threw herself at Holden.

"Holden! This is all my fault! If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have gotten hurt..."

Her voice choked with emotion, crying like a pear blossom in the rain.

Holden's uninjured hand wrapped around her waist.

Gently patting Vivienne's back,

"I chose to help you. It has nothing to do with you. Don't blame yourself for everything."

Vivienne carefully picked up his injured hand and gently blew on it.

"Does it hurt? What did the doctor say? Will it affect your ability to draw designs in the future?"

Holden's gaze was indulgent.

"This little injury will heal with some rest."

The two clung tightly to each other, gazing deeply into each other's eyes.

As if in that moment, the world contained only these two lovers.

And I stood to the side, practically like the other woman.

Only then did Vivienne notice there was someone else in the room.

She withdrew from Holden's embrace, looking at me apologetically.

"Lucia, I was just so worried about Holden. I couldn't sleep at home at all, so I bought some soup and brought it over."

As she spoke, she opened the takeout container.

The aroma of chicken soup wafted out.

"Holden loves this place's soup the most."

Vivienne ladled out a bowl and held it to Holden's lips.

Holden noticed I was standing nearby.

Flustered, he pushed away Vivienne's soup, his tone a bit awkward.

"This soup is too rich. I'm not used to it."

Then he looked at me.

"Lucia, I want to eat your cooking."

His tastes were quite particular, and his appetite wasn't great.

To get him to eat more, I used to buy quality ingredients and spend three or four hours in the kitchen.

If there was anything about me he was satisfied with, it was probably only that I could make good soup.

Vivienne's expression stiffened uncontrollably.

He looked at me, his tone softening a bit.

"I don't eat outside food. This place's taste isn't authentic either."

He paused, then added,

"Yours is just right."

I checked the time on my phone.

It was already 3:30 AM.

I had an important project meeting first thing in the morning.

This place was still some distance from the office.

If I went back now, I could barely get a few hours of sleep.

Now I was unwilling to sacrifice my sleep time for Holden.

"I don't have time to cook. Miss Vivienne already brought soup. Don't let her kindness go to waste."

"I have a meeting tomorrow. You rest up here. I'm leaving."

I put away my phone and turned to leave.

"Stop."

Seeing I was really leaving, Holden called out anxiously.

Then his slightly suspicious gaze swept across my face, as if confirming something.

"You're not angry? Why have you been so generous lately?"

"Usually you cry and make scenes. Why are you so calm now?"

I smiled and asked him back,

"Isn't this better?"

He was rendered speechless, his expression unpleasant, though he said nothing.

Yes, I wasn't this generous before. I loved him so pathetically.

At the slightest disturbance, I'd act like a shrew.

Never again. Someone I don't love can't stir up waves in my heart anymore.