There were not many who came with the same good heart that Nancy had, but even the kindest among people had ends to their tethers.
Frederic had interceded on Dorothy's behalf to ask Nancy to persuade Charles to let Dorothy off.
But however gentle Nancy was, Charles was as unmoving as stone. At the slightest mention off Dorothy's name, the lines of his face would immediately be set in firm lines, and his darkened expression left no room for discussion.
Their conversations had died down to silence. It was almost as if they had fallen into a cold war because of their differences.
Every time Nancy came back home, she was welcomed with Charles' coldness, and his eyes followed her with a quiet, questioning gaze.
It was already very late when Nancy finished work yesterday. She had to deal with three operations in a row, and by now her limbs felt like lead from exhaustion.
She wanted nothing more than a good rest, but she arrived to an empty dinner table. Charles had not cooked anything and was playing with the two children in the room.
At first, Nancy ignored the blatant coldness of this treatment-she no longer had the energy to argue, even as his actions pricked her. She trudged into the kitchen to prepare herself a simple meal. However, her hands were unsteady and the next moment, her finger was cut with the knife.
Blood oozed from the wound and Nancy felt as if she was reaching her breaking point. At once, the ill feelings she had earlier resisted came dangerously close to the surface.
Biting back a cry, she ran to the bedroom to get the medicine box.
"Mommy, what's wrong?" Nadia frowned as she asked. She was the first one to notice that something was amiss.
Nancy did not speak.
Nancy's distress reached Bobby as well. She tugged at Charles' sleeve and said, "Daddy, Mommy doesn't seem well."
Finally, Charles looked at Nancy.
Her face was tense as she clenched her fingers.
"What's wrong?" These were the first words that broke their silent feud.
Nancy did not answer and fled from the room with the medicine box.
"Daddy, what are you doing? You should go after her." Bobby furrowed his brows when he saw that Charles had not moved. He pushed his father away with his hands.
At his son's behest, Charles went out and followed Nancy.
He found her sitting on the sofa, bandaging her fingers. His fury crumbled with every step. They had been at it for the past two days-this ridiculous fight that stemmed from an even more ridiculous reason. Truth be told, his actions were at odds with his feelings. He was firm in his decision, and giving in to her would be a blow to his pride.
Even now, his voice sounded cold when he asked, "Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"
"I am a doctor. Why would I need go to the hospital?" Nancy countered in a voice that matched his callous expression.
Charles said nothing more and went into the kitchen to cook.
After he turned his back without another word, Nancy could no longer hold off the tears. They fell from her trembling eyes as she consoled herself.
Bobby and Nadia were standing at the door, alarmed at the sight of their mother crying.
"Why is Mommy crying?" Bobby asked softly.
The two children didn't want to see their mother weeping.
"Was it because of Daddy?" Nadia asked back.
"Maybe," Bobby said as he watched Nancy.
"Then what should we do?" Nadia's small voice was filled with anxiousness. She was on the brink of crying as she asked.
"Don't cry," Bobby comforted her. "Let's go to bed early tonight so Daddy and Mommy can talk."
"Okay," Nadia agreed.
Soon enough, Charles was finished cooking and called the children to dinner.
Nancy walked into the bedroom. She was half-lying on the bed, browsing through a medical book in her hand.
Charles came in and cleared his throat.
"Dinner is ready," he said.
"I'm not hungry." Nancy answered flatly with not even so much as a glance at him.
She was sprawled on the bed in the most graceless way possible,
but somehow, Charles still found her attractive.
As his eyes lingered on her form, he felt his heart pick up its pace.
His body felt warmer, and his chest fluttered with a prickly sensation.
It was a pleasant feeling.
He went over to her and leaned over, his face close to hers.
Nancy grimaced at his nearness and asked, "What are you doing?" He had been adamant in ignoring her for the past days. Why was he suddenly so interested in her now?
"It's time for dinner. Why aren't you getting up?" he asked back.
"I said I wasn't hungry," Nancy shot back. Charles' face seemed to be leaning even more closely. Nancy held her breath, thinking that he was really going to touch her.
They had been sleeping in different rooms because of the argument, and Charles was acting strange now.
His voice broke her wayward thoughts. "You said it yourself. You're a doctor. Aren't you supposed to be showing an example of taking care of your health?
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