My Husband's Affair My Anniversary Gift (Lily and David) novel Chapter 165

David didn’t know what came over him. Maybe it was seeing her hurt, maybe it was guilt, or maybe it was the fear that he might lose her. Before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers.

“Mm....” Lily’s eyes went wide. Her mind went blank, completely frozen. She tried to turn her face away, but David’s hand gently held her still.

Her right hand hurt, her body was weak, and she couldn’t push him away. He kissed her like he had been starving for her deep, desperate, almost trembling. His lips moved against hers, rough and hungry, and when his tongue brushed hers, she gasped.

“David… stop,” she mumbled under his breathless kisses, her voice breaking. But he didn’t stop. He was lost in it lost in her until suddenly Lily winced in pain.

“Ahh...!” she cried out, clutching her hand.

David froze. His eyes widened in panic. He immediately pulled back, his hand hovering over hers. “I’m sorry, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” His voice was rushed, almost guilty.

Lily glared at him, anger flashing in her tired eyes. “Have you lost your mind?!” she shouted, her voice hoarse but sharp.

David sank back into the chair beside her bed, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t say anything, just sat there staring at her, his expression dark, confused, and filled with something even he couldn’t name.

And Lily, breathing hard, turned her face away again, trying to calm her pounding heart. The room fell into silence, but the air between them felt heavy, thick with everything left unsaid.

Noah came back just then, carrying a bag of food. She froze for a moment when she saw David sitting by the bed, then forced herself to move on.

She set the food on the small table and glanced at Lily, questioning with her eyes why David was there.

Lily rolled her eyes and put on a look that said she didn’t care, she didn’t want to make a scene.

Noah let out a helpless sigh. “Let’s eat something, and you still need to take your medicine,” she said, unzipping the bag and pulling out a box.

She kept her words steady, but her tone held a sharp edge. She did not like David. She never had. Every time she thought of him she remembered how much Lily had cried because of him. He had never respected Lily, so Noah saw no reason to be polite to him.

“I’ll feed her,” David said abruptly. He stood and reached for the food box in Noah’s hand.

Noah yanked the box back like reflex and shot him an angry look. “You don’t have to bother, Mr. Hardison. This isn’t your job,” she said coldly, and started walking toward Lily.

David set the box down and sat in the chair beside the bed. He opened the container and scooped a spoonful of porridge. Up close, he looked worn brows knotted, eyes tired. He lifted the spoon and guided it slowly toward Lily’s mouth.

Lily pinched her eyebrows together in irritation. She hated feeling helpless. But she also knew he wouldn’t leave until she ate. So she let her mouth open a little and took the spoon. The porridge was warm and bland, but it was food.

She chewed without speaking, watching David out of the corner of her eye. He watched back, something unreadable in his face worry, maybe, or something deeper she couldn’t name.

Noah hovered nearby, arms folded, watching every movement like she expected a fight to break out. She kept her distance but stayed close enough to offer help if Lily needed it.

The spoon came again. David fed her slowly, insisting with his quiet, persistent manner.

Each time Lily swallowed, she felt a little more steadied not by the porridge, but by the fact someone was there, refusing to let her be alone. She didn’t owe him gratitude, and she didn’t need to thank him. Still, a small, complicated warmth threaded through her chest that she couldn’t explain.

They stayed like that for a while David feeding, Lily eating, Noah watching an odd, fragile peace settling over the little hospital corner. Outside, the corridor lights hummed, and the world moved on. Inside, for the moment, things were held steady by small, tense gestures and the hush of people trying not to break.