Chapter 227
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Millie casually looked up when the sound of the footsteps subsided. When she saw Winston, she set her snacks on the table and examined him.
“W–Winston, what’s wrong?” Her response was delayed
Hazel turned and saw Winston frowning at Millie, his hair damp. Panic colored his eyes. Behind him stood Eli and two security guards from the hospital.
“Why didn’t you pick up my call?” He sounded accusatory right as he spoke. He was clearly incensed.
Millie fumbled around her pocket. She had forgotten to take her phone when she was changing. The phone was currently in her room.
She bashfully pointed downstairs. “It’s… in my room.”
Winston marched forward, seemingly having a lot to say to her, but he hesitated.
Did she leave her phone in her room? Oh, this silly woman had no idea how worried he was because she didn’t pick up his calls in the middle of the night and was missing from her room!
He turned his face sideways and let out a sigh of relief. Whatever. Everything was fine as long as Milliet was safe and sound.
He glanced at Millie and instructed her in a glum voice, “Go back to your room.”
“I don’t want to,” she refused, as she felt safe and secure around Hazel,
He frowned impatiently. “What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything! Hazel is the one who’s scared of thunderstorms. That’s why I’m here with her Millie grabbed Hazel’s arm and put it all on the nurse.
Hazel was out of the situation throughout their exchange. Winston raised a doubtful eyebrow at Hazel. Now, was Hazel the one who feared thunderstorms?
Hazel was at a loss. Chuckling icily, Winston reached for Millie’s hand to bring her away. Millie struggled and protested, “I’m not going back to my room! I’ll be alone there…”
Her voice trailed off when Winston scooped her into his arms. His shirt was damp from the rain. Staring into his deep eyes, she suddenly quietened.
“You won’t be alone. I’ll be there,” he assured her.
She asked, “But aren’t you spending time with Joanna?
“Who told you so?” He left carrying Millie in his arms.
Her heart suddenly raced when she studied his eyes. Clutching the hem of his shirt, she questioned cautiously, “So…”
He lowered his gaze and peered into her eyes, causing her heart to go wild. She hurriedly looked away and dropped the question she had wanted to ask-“Are you here to keep me company? Were you worried when you couldn’t find me in the room?”
In the dimly lit elevator, Millie watched as the floor numbers changed on the panel. She began, “Is this you
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being nice to me?”
He looked at her, and she stared him in the eyes. “Winston Greer, is this an act of charity?”
Her words were a stab in the heart. She had regarded his actions as “being nice” when all he did was what a friend would gladly do. She even interpreted his actions as an act of charity.
He couldn’t help but reflect on how poorly he had treated her in the past. Then, he replied flatly, “No.”
“Ah. You’re doing this out of sympathy for me, then,” Millie mumbled.
He frowned. Charity and sympathy were two sides of the same coin.
When the elevator doors slid open, he carried her out, She held onto his shirt and snuggled against him when thunder roared.
He held her tighter and brought her to her room. Once he placed her in the bed, he drew the curtain close. She finally felt much at peace without the fear–inducing sight of lightning flashing across the sky.
Winston poured her a glass of water. His hair was still damp.
Millie sipped on the water and picked up her phone from the bedside table. It was then that she realized she had missed 20 of his calls.
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