Dexter left the hospital and headed straight for Villa Heights.
Meanwhile, Angela was having a relaxing evening in the living room. She was soaking her feet and watching a movie with a face mask on. Beside her was a cup of herbal tea. She was completely at ease.
This was the life she had always dreamed of—work during the day, rest at night, and enjoy every moment.
"You seem to be having a relaxing time." Dexter's voice suddenly rang out, startling Angela.
"Why are you back? Didn't the doctor say you shouldn't move around for a week?" She sat bolt upright, half of her face mask slipping off.
Dexter scoffed and sat down on the couch. "There's no one there to take care of me. Am I supposed to just sit there and wait for my death?"
Angela was speechless.
What the heck? Did he wake up on the wrong side of the bed? What was his deal?
She quickly removed her face mask and got up. "How are you feeling then? A-aren't you being too—"
Before she could finish, Dexter shot her a sharp, icy glare.
Angela gave an awkward smile. "Do you want something to eat?"
She only asked out of politeness, with no real intention of making him food. The household staff had already gone to bed, and she wasn't about to exhaust herself.
"Yes," Dexter unexpectedly answered. "Make me some instant noodles."
Angela wished she had kept her mouth shut.
Fine, whatever. She owed him anyway.
Angela stepped out of the foot soak, washed her hands, and went to the kitchen. Before long, she brought out a bowl of instant noodles.
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