Awakened Housewife Ignore Betrayer's Begs (Scarlett) novel Chapter 144

Chapter 144 Fevered Obligations

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Abbott’s voice came through the phone. “Mr. Stewart, there’s a meeting scheduled to begin shortly.”

Vincent thought of Vanessa’s fragile condition upstairs and finally sighed in resignation. “Reschedule the meeting for another time. I won’t be coming to the office today. Handle any matters that arise yourself. Unless it’s absolutely critical, don’t contact me.”

Abbott didn’t dare inquire further about the sudden change, simply responding with his usual deference, “Understood.”

*****

Scarlett spent the entire day at the hospital in a daze, her mind clouded by fever and emotional exhaustion, barely accomplishing any substantial work. Fortunately, her colleagues noticed her poor condition and kindly took on some of her responsibilities without being asked.

Feeling genuinely grateful for their understanding, she promised to treat everyone to a meal once she recovered.

That afternoon, her phone buzzed with an incoming text message from Vincent. “Vanessa wants some of your homemade oatmeal.”

Scarlett stared at the message, her fingers hovering over the screen, uncertain how to respond to this simple yet loaded request.

Should she agree, setting aside her own illness and hurt feelings? Or refuse, maintaining what little dignity she had left?

In the end, after several minutes of internal debate, she chose not to reply at all.

But when her shift finally ended, the exhaustion weighing heavily on her shoulders, she found herself hesitating in the hospital parking lot.

After much internal debate, her maternal instincts ultimately overriding her pride, she eventually drove to Ravenshade Villa.

She knew it was futile to hope for appreciation or kindness, but Vanessa was her daughter, her own flesh and blood. She simply couldn’t bring herself to abandon her completely.

When she arrived at Ravenshade Villa, Lily was cleaning the living room. Seeing Scarlett enter, Lily looked genuinely surprised, her cleaning cloth stilling in mid-air. “Mrs, Stewart?” she exclaimed, her voice filled with undisguised shock.

After everything Vincent and Vanessa had put her through that morning, Lily honestly believed

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Scarlett would never return to this house, at least not so soon.

Yet here she was, looking even more frail than when she’d left…

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Scarlett noticed the shock in Lily’s eyes but deliberately ignored it, asking instead in a carefully controlled voice, “Where are Vincent and Vanessa now?”

Lily replied, recovering her composure, “Mr. Stewart is upstairs in Vanessa’s room, keeping her company.”

Scarlett said simply, without elaborating further, “I’m going to prepare some food.”

Once the oatmeal was simmering on the stove, Scarlett remained standing by the stove, monitoring its progress with tired eyes.

She had felt unwell all day-her body weak and clammy with sweat, clear signs of her ongoing fever that she had stubbornly ignored throughout her shift.

At dinnertime, Vincent and Vanessa came downstairs.

Scarlett served Vanessa a bowl of the freshly cooked oatmeal without uttering a word, placing it gently on the table before retreating slightly.

Vincent remained largely silent too, carefully feeding Vanessa spoonful by spoonful with a patience Scarlett rarely saw in him.

Scarlett sipped some broth from her own bowl but had little appetite, the food tasting like ash in her mouth.

After dinner, Vanessa expressed wanting to watch cartoons upstairs, so Vincent carried her back to her room without a backward glance at Scarlett.

While Lily cleared the table, the clatter of dishes the only sound in the quiet room, Scarlett collapsed onto the living room sofa, her energy completely spent.

Exhausted from the long, emotionally draining day, the moment she touched the soft cushions, all she wanted was to lie down and never get up again.

As soon as she did, stretching out on the comfortable sofa, overwhelming drowsiness washed over her.

She had no idea how long she’d been asleep when, in her groggy, half-aware state, she sensed someone moving nearby. Struggling to open her heavy eyelids, she saw Vincent draping a soft blanket over her, his movements surprisingly gentle.

She parted her dry lips to speak, to protest this unexpected kindness, but no sound emerged, her throat too parched and raw.

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She didn’t even possess the strength to remove the blanket Vincent had placed over her, her limbs feeling like lead weights.

Noticing she was awake, her eyes barely open, Vincent reached out to feel her forehead with the back of his hand, then compared it to his own temperature. “Your fever has returned.”

Scarlett swallowed with difficulty, wincing at the pain in her throat, her voice hoarse as she managed, “I’ll be fine after taking some medication.”

Her forehead glistened with sweat, her eyes were bloodshot and glassy with fever-she appeared completely drained, a shadow of her usual composed self.

Vincent looked unconvinced by her weak assurance. He bent down closer to her and said, his voice firm, “I’ll carry you upstairs to rest properly.”

Just as he reached for her, his arms positioning to lift her, Scarlett pushed his hands away weakly. “No need. I can walk by myself.”

Despite her entire body feeling weak and heavy, every movement an effort, she insisted on climbing the stairs independently, determined to maintain some semblance of dignity.

She forced herself to sit up from the sofa, a wave of dizziness washing over her, sweat already dampening the back of her blouse.

After catching her breath momentarily, she stood shakily and moved toward the staircase, each step deliberate and unsteady.

But she had taken only a few steps when her legs buckled beneath her, the strength draining from them suddenly, and she began to collapse forward, unable to catch herself.

Vincent had been watching her closely, his expression unreadable. The instant he saw her falter, he rushed forward and caught her just before she hit the floor. “Why must you always be so stubborn?” he demanded.

Leaning against his support, too weak to stand on her own, Scarlett retorted weakly, “I’m not being stubborn. I simply prefer to manage on my own.”

Vincent’s temper flared at her continued resistance. “What’s the point of this pointless pride? I’m already exhausted from caring for Vanessa all day, and now I have to look after you too because you refuse to accept help.”

Scarlett shot him a cold glare. “I never asked you to take care of me. I don’t need or want your assistance,” she declared.

She attempted to push him away again, but he held her firmly, his grip unyielding.

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Already physically disadvantaged by her illness and weakened by fever, she stood no chance against his superior strength, her struggles futile against his solid frame.

After struggling briefly against his hold, she was perspiring even more heavily, her breath coming in ragged gasps from the exertion.

Scizing the opportunity while she was momentarily incapacitated, Vincent bent down and scooped her into his arms in one smooth motion, cradling her against his chest.

Too weak to resist effectively, her energy completely spent, Scarlett simply leaned against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart through his shirt. She looked up at his sharp, tense jawline-so handsome yet as cold and unyielding as ice, a perfect reflection of his character.

Beautiful things are often the most poisonous—and hurt the deepest when they turn against you.

After carrying Scarlett upstairs, Vincent laid her gently on their large bed, the mattress dipping with her weight, and tucked the covers around her with surprising care.

He brought her medication and a glass of water, then sat beside the bed watching intently until she swallowed the pills, ensuring she actually took them.

When she finished, he took the empty cup from her trembling hand and suddenly said, his tone shifting to businesslike, “We need to talk.”

Scarlett’s head was still throbbing, a dull ache that pulsed with every heartbeat. Leaning against the headboard for support, she looked at Vincent and asked wearily, “What do you want to discuss?”

Vincent stated matter-of-factly, as if discussing a routine schedule, “I have an unavoidable business trip this weekend.”

His implication was obvious, hanging unspoken in the air between them-he expected Scarlett to take care of Vanessa during his absence.

Though Scarlett understood his meaning perfectly, she pretended not to grasp his meaning.

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Awakened Housewife Ignore Betrayer’s Begs