Chapter 82 Marry Me Instead
Quinley didn't respond. She understood David's intentions, but she couldn't play along—not even as a joke.
"Let me take you to dinner."
"Dinner's boring. How about you just marry me instead?" As he spoke, David blew a breath of air across Quinley's forehead. Even knowing she'd refuse, he still wanted to test the waters.
"I'm not right for you."
"Whether you're right for me isn't your call to make." David's eyes darkened with determination. He was used to getting what he wanted.
"Stop it, Dr. Brown. This isn't funny at all." Quinley bent down and slipped under David's arm, walking toward the other end of the examination room.
David followed like a stubborn child, persistent as ever. "I'm not joking, and I'm not playing around. I'm serious about you, Quinny. Will you marry me?" He grabbed her arm again, his tone somewhere between pleading and demanding.
Quinley suddenly laughed. She looked at David as if he were a complete stranger. "Dr. Brown, if I had nothing to do with Zachary, would you still be so determined to marry me?"
The question caught David off guard. For a split second, he hesitated, then quickly tried to explain away his moment of uncertainty. "Quinny, my wanting to marry you has nothing to do with anyone else. You have to believe me—what I feel for you is real."
"Dr. Brown, thank you for your feelings, but I don't like you, and I won't marry someone I don't like."
"So you're planning to marry Zachary? You like him, but he's not right for you." David pressed aggressively. He was used to competing with Zachary for everything, including women.
"I'm just an ordinary woman, so naturally I should find an ordinary man. Both Mr. Brown and Mr. Jennings are way out of my league."
"That's fine. I'll reach down to your level then." David left with a mischievous grin. Just as he was about to disappear from Quinley's sight, he suddenly cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Quinley, I'm definitely going to marry you!"
Half an hour later, Dennis was wheeled out of the examination room. His head hung low, looking utterly dejected. Back in his hospital room, he curled up on the bed and pulled the covers over his head.
Quinley pulled up a chair beside the bed. She felt they needed to have a serious conversation. "Why did you go to loan sharks again? You know how dangerous they are. Why would you borrow from them? Denny, did someone force you into this?"
The last time Dennis got involved with loan sharks, she hadn't pressed for details because she knew Alicia was behind it—using others to trap Quinley. But what about this time?
"No one forced me," Dennis mumbled.
"Then tell me what you needed the money for."
"Can't you just stop asking? The problem's solved, isn't it? Why do you keep pushing?" Dennis deflected, refusing to say anything.
In that moment, Quinley's suppressed anger suddenly erupted. "Dennis, I'm telling you—if there's a next time, I won't be able to help you anymore. I can't handle cleaning up these messes." Every day felt like walking on thin ice, never knowing what would happen next. She was truly exhausted.
"I'm sorry." Dennis apologized through his stuffy nose, but he still wouldn't explain what he'd used the money for.
That evening, Quinley returned to her apartment in the south part of the city. Without even showering, she crawled straight into bed. She was exhausted, but sleep wouldn't come. Zachary's image kept floating through her mind—his pale, sickly face, his bloodshot eyes from staying up all night, his lonely but stubbornly upright figure.
Subconsciously, she was still worried about that man. She tossed and turned until dawn without a wink of sleep.
Quinley finally got up, but suddenly a wave of nausea hit her throat. Barefoot, she covered her mouth and rushed to the bathroom. She hadn't eaten anything the night before, so her stomach was completely empty. Quinley hugged the toilet, dry heaving until she thought she'd bring up bile.
Just then, her phone rang. It was Zachary calling, and Quinley quickly answered.
Zachary's deep, magnetic voice came through the phone. After a night's rest, he seemed to be in better condition, though he was still coughing. "You called me last night?"
"Yeah." Quinley slumped down on the floor, leaning against the toilet. She felt weak and didn't have the energy to talk.
"Did something happen?" Zachary asked, pressing his fist to his lips to suppress his coughing.
Quinley couldn't bear to tell him about her messy situation, so she denied it. "No, nothing happened. I just wanted to ask if you were feeling better."
Suddenly, that wave of nausea surged up again. She quickly covered her mouth, trying to hold it back, but the sound still came through the phone.
"What's wrong?" Zachary's voice rose with concern.
Quinley forced herself to swallow down the nausea. "I had some street food last night. I think it upset my stomach." She wasn't used to making people worry, so she lied. Zachary didn't seem suspicious.
"Make sure to see a doctor today. I'll be busy for a few more days, but I'll come see you when I'm done. If anything comes up, leave me a message and I'll call you back when I can."
"Okay, sounds good." Quinley responded quietly. She could hear commotion in the background and knew Zachary was swamped with responsibilities.
"Quinley?"
"I'm here."
"I miss you."
After a long pause, Zachary's voice came through again. Somehow, Quinley felt a pang in her chest, and tears began to gather in her eyes.
"I know. Go take care of what you need to do." She quickly composed herself. William's funeral was elaborate, and as the eldest son, Zachary had to handle everything personally. With his poor health and overwhelming responsibilities, she couldn't add to his burden.
"Alright." Zachary hung up.
Quinley got herself together and headed to the hospital. There were many street vendors along the way, so she bought a bowl of wontons to eat as she walked. The wontons had dried shrimp in them. After just a few bites, she couldn't hold it back and threw up everything.
Quinley assumed it was just her digestive system reacting badly to irregular eating habits lately, so she didn't think much of it.
At lunch, Marlee bought poached salmon, fried chicken, and a salad from the cafeteria. Quinley looked listless and had no appetite.
Noticing something was off, Marlee asked, "Quinny, why do you look so pale?" She urged Quinley to see a doctor.
"Mom, I'm fine. I just didn't sleep well last night. I'll take a nap after lunch and I'll be good as new." She yawned, trying to cover up her condition.
Marlee didn't think much of it, just reminded Quinley to take care of herself. Seeing that Quinley was only eating salad, Marlee put a piece of fish on her plate. For some reason, the fish smelled overwhelmingly fishy. After just one small bite, Quinley's stomach started churning again.
She dropped her bowl, covered her mouth, and rushed to the bathroom.