Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love novel Chapter 81

Has she gone bonkers because of Maxwell? Now she's sleepwalking or what?

After freshening up, she made a beeline for the doc's office, just to make sure Maxwell was all good; then she zipped through the discharge process. "Are you heading home on your own, or should I give Jason a ring to pick you up?"

Propped up against the bed, Maxwell had his lips curved into a smile. "The doc gave me the green light to check out?"

‘That little scratch on your forehead already received far more attention than it deserved, with you having stayed overnight at the hospital.’

But in order to speed up the troublemaker's exit, Rosemary bit her tongue on the snarky comeback, by relaying the doc's orders verbatim: "Yep, keep the wound dry, lay off booze and spicy food."

It's winter, so not washing hair for four or five days won't turn him into a stink bomb, but for a clean freak like Maxwell, it's a real test of willpower.

Maxwell, all lazy-like, says, "But I'm still feeling a bit woozy upstairs."

"So, what's your brilliant idea?" Rosemary frowned, eyeing him like a hawk and sensing Maxwell was up to no good with his sneaky ways.

"Move back to Meadowlark Retreat."

"Not happening," she shot back without a second thought.

Maxwell played the sympathy card. "No staff at home, no one to even pour me a glass of water. Surely you don't want me to go back to the old manor with this and have Wendy look after me, do you?"

Rosemary was merciless. "I'm not pouring water for you, and do not count on any other kind of help. As for going back to the manor." She flashed Maxwell a wickedly insincere grin. "Be my guest. She's your mom. If you're not worried about giving her a heart attack, why should I care? I didn't build the Divine Grace Chapel, after all."

She had been craving some late-night grub last night, and now she was starving, like her stomach was stuck to her spine. She didn't have the energy to waste on him anymore.

"If you wanna stay put here, that's cool. I'll hire a nurse for you. Man, I'm such a good Samaritan."

That last bit was just her patting herself on the back.

This place is a private hospital, with more beds than patients. As long as you've got the cash, you could stay till the cows come home.

Maxwell was fuming. "Rosemary, where do you think you're going? I'm starving!"

"Did I kidnap the chef or blow up the hospital cafeteria? If you're hungry, go downstairs and eat. Look at the bad habits I've let you get into."

For three years, whether it was ordering takeout or cooking herself, Rosemary had always served it up to him on a silver platter. Now they were talking divorce, and he still expected her to wait on him hand and foot like an ancestor?

Men – give 'em an inch, and they'll take a mile!

Stepping out of the hospital, Rosemary hailed a cab straight home.

As she's a bit peculiar about her sleeping space, she had a rough night. Therefore, she grabbed sandwich at the supermarket, planning to just slurp something down and catch up on sleep.

She didn't expect to step out of the elevator and see Maxwell standing right at her door.

Wasn't this guy supposed to be heading home or back to the Templeton Group to work?

"What are you doing here?"

"If you're here, why wouldn't I be? I'm injured and need care. You're my wife; it's your duty to look after me."

Was he here for a nanny service?

Rosemary couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity. "Now you remember you have a wife. When you were busy stuffing money and resources into Your Sweetheart's hands, you didn't think of that, did you?"

She unlocked her door, and turned around with a fierce glare. "You’re leaving or not? If not, I'm about to get physical."

Maxwell's expression darkened; he'd been looking worse for wear since last night. "Sweetheart?"