Chapter 191 Don't Dirty My Eyes
Elodie's voice was soft and fluttering, carrying a carefully rehearsed panic and distress.
She rushed to Rufus's side, carefully trying to support his arm. When her gaze fell on the still-bleeding wound on the back of his hand, her eyes instantly reddened.
"Mr. Chapman, why don't you take better care of yourself!"
"I heard from Louis that you were in the hospital, and I was scared to death! Why did you come out on your own? Your hand..."
As she spoke, she reached for his bleeding hand, her posture humble yet full of concern.
Rufus's body was tense from severe pain and anger, but when Elodie approached, he didn't push her away.
He even let her hold his arm.
That face, identical to the one in his memory, was filled with worry, which gave some twisted comfort to the bone-deep jealousy and rage burning in his chest.
Watching this ridiculous scene, Cecilia felt her previously good mood completely ruined. She was extremely annoyed.
Stefan leaned against the headboard, watching this farce with great interest.
His gaze swept back and forth between Rufus's ashen face and Elodie's exaggerated performance, finally settling on Cecilia's cold profile, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes.
He was curious to see how she, who was always so guarded against the outside world, would handle this situation.
"Mr. Chapman, your hand needs immediate attention." Elodie sobbed, pulling tissues from her bag, wanting to press them against Rufus's wound. "Let's go back to your room. I'll call a nurse. Not here, let's not disturb Ms. Martinez here."
At the same time, Cecilia finally lost all patience.
She slammed the thermal container onto the table with a heavy thud.
The crisp sound interrupted Elodie's unfinished performance.
"Your little show," she said coldly, her gaze sweeping over the two people tangled together, "is it over yet?"
Elodie's movements froze, the color draining completely from her face.
"Ms. Martinez, I, I didn't mean that. I was just worried about Mr. Chapman's condition..."
"If you're done, get out." Cecilia cut her off directly, her voice devoid of any warmth. "Don't stay here and dirty my eyes."
Cecilia paused, her gaze sweeping over Rufus's bloodless face, and added.
"And disturb the patient's rest."
That last word "patient" naturally referred to Stefan in the hospital bed.
"You—" Rufus's chest heaved violently, the twisting pain in his stomach and the stabbing pain in his heart intertwining, making his vision darken in waves.
He wanted to rage, to demand what right she had to treat him this way, but the disgust in Cecilia's eyes was so real, so bone-chilling, that all his words stuck in his throat, turning into the humiliating taste of blood.
"Ms. Martinez! You can't say that!" Seeing Rufus humiliated, Elodie mustered the courage to argue back, tears swirling in her eyes. "Mr. Chapman is sick, he's suffering. We just accidentally walked into the wrong room. Why do you have to say such hurtful things?"
A cold smile curved Cecilia's lips.
"Hurtful? You think you're worthy?"
Cecilia looked at Elodie's face that mimicked her past self, enunciating each word clearly.
"Put away your cheap performance. You know exactly who you're imitating. But a fake is always a fake—it only makes people sick."
Elodie's face instantly turned pale, her body trembling uncontrollably.
"Rufus," Cecilia's gaze finally moved to him, her eyes so cold they seemed devoid of human emotion. "Control your new toy, and control yourself. Whether you're sick or suffering, that's your own business and has nothing to do with me. Get out of here now."
"Did you hear that?" Stefan spoke up at this moment.
"This is a hospital room, not a stage. If Mr. Chapman has so much energy, he can perform in the lobby downstairs. I'm sure there'll be a bigger audience." Stefan leaned against the headboard, his tone lazy. "Of course, we're not responsible for ticket sales."
Stefan and Cecilia worked in perfect sync.
Rufus's rationality was completely consumed by the flames of jealousy.
He stared hard at Cecilia, then looked at Stefan with his relaxed expression that reeked of provocation.
Finally, using all his strength, Rufus squeezed out a sentence through gritted teeth.
"Amelia, very good."
After delivering this threatening line, he finally staggered out of the hospital room.
The door closed, and the suffocating tension in the room finally dissipated.
Stefan spoke again leisurely, his tone somewhat teasing. "Even when I'm hospitalized, I run into him. Mr. Chapman's obsession with you is really quite touching."
Cecilia ignored his teasing, picking up the now-cold thermal container, expressionless as she prepared to dump it out.
Stefan watched Cecilia's tense profile and suddenly put on a pitiful expression.
He pointed at the bowl of plain porridge, then at his own mouth, frowning. "This stuff is so bland it's tasteless. Eating it is like torture. After all that commotion just now, looking at it just reminds me of Rufus's disgusting face. I've lost my appetite completely."
Cecilia's movement of dumping the food paused, and she turned to look at him.
Stefan's face was still pale, but his eyes gleamed with calculation.
"Ms. Martinez," he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice with a coaxing tone. "Look, this acute cholecystitis, though it's my own fault, ultimately was caused by working through the night on our collaborative project."
"And now I've been harassed by Rufus who's pestering you. I've suffered serious mental trauma."
"Don't you think you should give me some real compensation?"
Stefan paused, looking into Cecilia's eyes, finally revealing his true intention. "I want to eat food you cook yourself."
He made it sound perfectly justified, as if it were the most natural thing.
Hearing this, Cecilia fell silent for a moment.
Images of countless days and nights spent busy in the kitchen in her past life floated through her mind.
To cater to Rufus's tastes, she had learned cuisines from various countries and studied all kinds of health soups. But in the end, the meals she carefully prepared ended up feeding the trash can and a dog.
Those memories had been the source of her pain, evidence of her foolishness.
But now, looking at Stefan's face full of expectation, her heart didn't stir with any emotion. Instead, she felt somewhat curious.
Cooking a meal for a business partner.
This didn't seem like something she couldn't accept.
At least Stefan wouldn't treat her efforts like dust and discard them like trash the way Rufus had.
"What do you want to eat?" she asked, her voice calm.
Stefan hadn't expected her to actually agree. His eyes instantly lit up with childlike delight.
"I'm not picky." He answered immediately, afraid she'd change her mind. "Whatever you make is fine."
He drew out his tone and added, "Though the doctor said that as a patient, I should eat something light and easy to digest. Like, porridge with various supplements?"
He started pushing his luck with his order.
Cecilia watched his smug expression, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly.
"Quite demanding, aren't you."
"Of course," Stefan said matter-of-factly. "This is Ms. Martinez cooking herself—such a rare opportunity. I have to make the most of it."
"Got it." Cecilia picked up her bag and walked toward the door.
"I'll be back soon. Behave yourself and don't cause me any more trouble."
"Yes, ma'am." Stefan leaned against the headboard, giving her retreating figure a somewhat sloppy salute, his face beaming with a dazzling smile.