Chapter 224
When Millie turned toward the door, she looked visibly surprised by the visitor. She stood up and greeted him, “Oh, Simon.”
Simon looked gentlemanly in a black suit and gold–rimmed glasses. Holding a bouquet of lilies and some food, he entered the room and joked, “I’m here to visit the hero.”
She pouted. “I’m no hero. Someone had to protect me from getting stabbed.”
“Why? Are you disappointed because you didn’t get stabbed?” He placed the food on the table and handed her the bouquet. “Here’s some fresh lilies for you.”
She stared at the flowers and lamented silently, “Winston has never bought me flowers.”
Soon, she put on a smile and replied to Simon, “Thanks. I love it.”
“I brought food for you, but I’m not sure if they are to your taste.” He pointed at the food on the bedside table before slumping onto the chair.
“I’m sure I’ll like whatever you buy for me.” She raised a brow and joked with him, looking happy.
“You’re a sweet talker.” Amused by her statement, he chuckled, eyes filled with joy.
Meanwhile, Millie examined every single action of his. If she had to pick a partner, he might be the perfect candidate.
“Simon,” she suddenly called out to him.
He was in the middle of opening the food containers for her. Glancing up, he asked, “What’s the matter?”
After some deliberation, she decided to drop the issue when she realized it was too embarrassing to say aloud.
He beamed at her. “Just speak your mind. We can be honest with each other.”
Nodding, she questioned, “Do you mind marrying a divorcee?”
Taken aback by the question, he gaped. Just as he was about to answer, the door to her room flung open.
They both looked over and found Winston standing at the door with a grim expression as if he had overheard something horrible.
He marched in with frigid airs. Despite it being September, his presence screamed winter, bringing chills to the people around him.
Winston was clad in a gray athleisure outfit. He looked much more approachable without his business suit. He was about to place the food container on the table when he noticed Simon’s stuff and the flowers on the bedside table.
He furrowed his brow at the sight. Simon stood up at the same time, meeting his eyes. They engaged in a silent stare–down for a while.
Soon, Winston shifted his attention to Millie. “Ms. Caldwell, it appears that you have company. I guess my mom’s cooking will go to waste tonight.”
She frowned at his rather passive–aggressive remark. Then, he turned to Simon and scrutinized the latter.
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Tutting, he remarked, “Mr. Harrison, do you have a special interest in other’s wives?”
Simon chuckled. “Mr. Greer, she’s not your wife.”
“Are you playing dumb?” Winston confronted him, his eyes narrowing.
Simon raised an eyebrow in confusion. “I thought you signed the divorce papers.”
To that, Winston smirked. “It’s just a paper.”
His remark attracted Millie’s attention. So, the divorce was nothing but a piece of paper to him, it seemed.
He could toss the paper at her or tear it up at a whim. However, to her, the paper symbolized her life–a life of resilience.
Simon snickered without replying to Winston. He then prepared to leave.
Millie got out of bed to send him off, but he shook his head, gesturing at her to rest in bed. “You’re getting discharged tomorrow. Is that right? I’ll pick you up.
“It’s fine…” She wanted to decline his offer. In her case, getting discharged from the hospital was no different than getting off work. She had no belongings to bring along anyway.
Before she could finish her sentence, Simon added, “This is my answer to your question. I don’t mind as long as it’s you.”
Millie’s body stiffened upon hearing his answer.
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