Sydney carefully ladled the soup she had lovingly prepared into a bowl, her hands steady and gentle as she placed it in front of Rowan.
With a warm smile, she said, "Rowan, I know how much you love my soup. As soon as I heard you were awake, I rushed to the farmer's market this morning to get the freshest ingredients. Please, give it a try."
Holding the bowl with one hand, she scooped up some soup with a spoon, blew on it gently to cool it down, and offered it to Rowan.
But Rowan turned his head away, his voice cold and distant. "Take it away. I don't want any."
Sydney’s hand trembled a bit, causing some of the soup to spill onto Rowan’s arm.
Putting the bowl down, she reached for a napkin to clean it up, but Rowan pushed her hand away in irritation.
"I’ve figured it out," he said sharply. "The only reason I fell for you must be because you messed with my food somehow!"
Sydney looked hurt. "Rowan, I would never do something like that."
"Just leave. I need to rest."
Rowan lay back down, pulling the blanket over himself and turning his back to her.
Sydney stood there, speechless.
Men, she thought bitterly. They can be so passionate when they love, but once they decide they don’t, they cut ties so easily.
With a face drained of emotion, she looked at Rowan one last time, composed herself, and said softly, "Rowan, if you don’t want to see me, I’ll leave. Please don’t be upset. Take care of yourself. Remember to drink the soup."
Lowering her head, she got up and walked out.
Once outside the hospital, Sydney sat in her car, her expression dark and brooding.
Her daughter, Shay, hesitantly broke the silence. "Mom, is Dad still not talking to you?"
Sydney shot her a sharp look. "If you can't say anything helpful, just zip it!"
Shay fell silent, realizing she had touched a nerve.


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