He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 249

He didn't look like a man on his deathbed at all.

"Perfect timing. I'm hungry. Bring me the food on that desk."

He pointed a finger toward the small workstation near the bed.

Ottilie finally noticed a lavish, nutritional meal waiting there.

Seven dishes and a soup, completely filling a massive tray.

She brought the overbed table over, locked it in place, and set the heavy tray down in front of him.

Then, she pulled up a chair next to the bed.

Yorath patted the mattress. "Why are you sitting so far away? Sit here."

She stood up and moved to the edge of the bed.

He handed her a pair of silverware. "Eat with me."

"I'm not hungry."

"If you're not going to eat, then let's get down to business," he said softly.

He set his silverware down, looking at her with a faint smile.

Ottilie frowned. "The second I walk in, you start ordering me around. You said you were hungry, so I brought it over, and now you're refusing to eat."

Those words ignited a spark of pure fury in his chest.

If it had been Yves lying in this bed, she would have been crying her eyes out over him.

But Yorath was a master of masking his emotions.

No matter how violently the storm raged inside, his face remained flawlessly composed.

"You're right. It was ungrateful of me to waste your kindness."

He picked up his fork and took a single bite of one dish.

It couldn't have been more dismissive.

"I'm full. You can take this away now."

Ottilie stood up and moved the tray back to the desk.

When she returned, she sat on the chair instead of the bed.

Seeing her deliberately keep her distance, realizing she hadn't asked a single question about his condition since she walked in...

His chest wound flared with agonizing pain.

Ottilie shot to her feet. "What are you doing?"

"Calling the police. He harbored a fugitive; he needs to face the consequences. Aren't you a champion of justice, Ms. Sewell? Why are you stopping someone else from seeking it?"

She had no counterargument.

"You can't call the police," she whispered. "I'll swear to it."

Yorath glanced at her hands, clenched so tightly into fists that her nails were leaving deep red crescents in her palms. It broke his heart, yet he hated her for doing it for another man.

"Think it through carefully. Don't go claiming I forced you into this, only to carry a torch for him and sneak around behind my back."

"What kind of person do you think I am?" she snapped.

He just smiled, saying nothing.

She had no choice but to raise her hand. "I swear. From this moment on, there is absolutely nothing romantic between Yves and me."

"That's entirely too dismissive," Yorath said. "I don't accept it."

"What do you want, then?"

"Repeat after me: I swear, if I harbor any romantic feelings for Yves, or ever wish to marry him, he will lose his entire future and die a gruesome death."

Ottilie bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Her eyes were rimmed with red, her breathing ragged and heavy.