Chapter 168

Chapter 168

"Oh right, why did you suddenly show up today? Didn't you say you had a night shift?"

Faced with Trent's question, Abigail took a gulp of cold water before answering. "I swapped shifts with someone."

"So you went to work early this morning?"

Thinking back on how he hadn't seen Abigail at home all day, Trent immediately understood.

"Yeah, I covered Iris's morning shift, and she's taking my night shift."

Abigail didn't go into any more detail than that.

"So you can get a good rest tonight."

Abigail gave a small nod, then spoke up again. "I hope I didn't bother you by showing up out of nowhere today."

Even though she was fairly certain about how Trent felt, Abigail couldn't help but ask.

"How could you ever bother me?"

Trent looked at her with a slightly puzzled expression. "You showed up just in time to save the day — I was honestly surprised. Bother me? I'd be happy to have you by my side every single day."

He meant every word of it.

Abigail, however, shot him an annoyed look.

"I'm not that free."

She had her own work to deal with. There was no way she could follow Trent around all the time. That was just wishful thinking.

"I know you won't, but there's no harm in saying it."

Trent let out a low laugh, and as he watched the color slowly rising in Abigail's cheeks, he felt a flicker of surprise.

He'd drunk with Abigail before, and he never remembered her being such a lightweight.

"Abigail, are you feeling okay?"

Not quite understanding why he was suddenly asking that, Abigail turned to look at him — and noticed that his head seemed to be slowly getting bigger.

"Why does your head look like it's getting bigger?"

The moment he heard that, Trent knew exactly what was going on.

"Abigail, are you drunk?"

The thought made him both amused and exasperated.

"You haven't had a drink in so long — how are you already this far gone after just a little?"

"There's no way I'm drunk."

Abigail muttered to herself, her cheeks burning hotter and hotter.

Her vision was starting to blur.

"Abigail? Abigail?"

Noticing her responses getting slower, Trent waved his hand in front of her face to test her.

Abigail grabbed his hand and said in a slightly slurred voice, "What are you doing? Why are you being so loud?"

Compared to her usual self, she seemed almost soft and girlish in that moment.

This was a side of Abigail Trent had almost never seen.

The corner of his mouth curved up slightly — but when he felt her body temperature, his expression turned serious again.

If he'd thought at first that she was just drunk, now something felt off.

A drunk person's temperature shouldn't be this high.

Could she have a fever?

The thought hit him, and he quickly urged Aiden, "Aiden, can you speed up a little? I think Abigail might have a fever."

"Got it, Mr. Smith. Hold on tight."

Hearing that Abigail might have a fever, Aiden picked up the pace — though still safely within the speed limit.

Trent kept talking to Abigail the whole way, but she had almost stopped responding entirely.

It was as if she'd lost consciousness.

He'd originally planned to take her to the hospital, but since she wasn't showing any other unusual symptoms, Trent pushed down his worry and had Aiden drive back to the villa instead.

As soon as they pulled up, Trent carried Abigail out of the car.

He laid her gently on the bed in the master bedroom and patted her face with concern.

"Abigail, can you hear me?"

As if sensing the sound around her, Abigail let out a soft whimper and shifted restlessly. But beyond that, she gave no response — just kept murmuring that she was hot.

Trent's heart sank.

He grabbed a thermometer to check her temperature, then called the family doctor.

It was the middle of the night, and by the time the doctor arrived, half an hour had passed.

"Mr. Smith, let me take a look at Mrs. Smith."

Trent stepped aside and watched as the doctor examined Abigail.

"She doesn't have a fever, but her body is very hot."

While the doctor was checking her, Trent added the temperature reading he'd taken earlier.

The doctor nodded — but his expression slowly turned a little strange.

"What's wrong with Abigail?"

The moment Trent noticed the look on his face, his heart jumped.

"Mrs. Smith is going to be fine. It's just that she may have been given something..."

The doctor trailed off and didn't continue.

Trent stared at him. "Given what?"

As Trent kept pressing, the family doctor glanced over at him and mouthed the words silently.

"That can't be right."

Trent read his lips, his brow furrowing deeply.

"She was with me the whole time and didn't touch anything else — except that glass of champagne."

Then it clicked.

"She drank a glass of champagne that someone handed her tonight. Could someone have put something in it?"

The doctor nodded. "That's entirely possible."

Trent went quiet. He glanced at Abigail, then looked back at the doctor. "So what do we do now?"

"The best option would be to just let it run its course."

The doctor's words were still carefully vague, but Trent's heart skipped a beat.

"Is there any other way?"

With Abigail not fully conscious, Trent had no intention of taking advantage of her. He also didn't want things to go wrong so soon after they'd made up — he didn't want to leave her with any bad memories.

"There is another option, but Mrs. Smith would have to go through some discomfort."

The doctor looked at Trent with a helpless expression. "If the other option really isn't possible, then the only alternative is a cold bath for Mrs. Smith."

"No."

Trent rejected that immediately.

Abigail seemed fine right now, but a cold bath — who knew how long that would take — and what if she caught a cold afterward?

"Then I suppose we let it run its course."

The doctor said nothing more. He quietly picked up his bag, slipped out of the room, and pulled the door shut behind him.

Click.

In the silence of the night, even the sound of the door closing felt unusually sharp.

Trent stared at Abigail as she shifted restlessly on the bed, his eyes growing darker.

He genuinely didn't want to take advantage of her. But with the other option ruled out, only one choice remained.

He looked at her for a long moment. When his fingers brushed her burning skin, he instinctively pulled back.

Just as Trent was trying to think of a way to bring her temperature down, Abigail wrapped herself around him.

"I'm hot," she breathed.

Her voice carried a hint of something almost flirtatious.

Unlike a moment ago when she'd seemed relatively calm, Abigail's eyes were now open — but those usually cool, clear eyes were glassy and wet, the corners tinged faintly red.

"Abigail, do you know what you're doing?"

Before Trent could say another word, Abigail bit down on his neck.