Chapter 8
Sophie walked home, her cold hadn't gotten better, and now it was even worse.
Stuffy nose, headache, sore throat.
After taking cold medicine, she wrapped herself in a blanket and curled up in bed, hugging her knees to her chest.
A bed for one person took forever to warm up.
As dawn approached, Sophie really couldn't take it anymore. She threw on her down jacket and took a cab to the hospital.
Getting an IV drip, feeling groggy, she couldn't help but feel a bit envious seeing everyone else had someone with them.
Time dragged on, but she didn't dare fall asleep.
She forced herself to stay awake, glancing up from time to time.
Matthew came for a follow-up appointment and happened to see Sophie sitting nearby.
Her head was drooping, her hair messy, a needle in the back of her hand. Among the crowd, she looked especially lonely.
Suddenly, Sophie looked up and her eyes met Matthew's. She instinctively called out to him, "Matthew..."
Matthew acted like he didn't see her and walked straight past.
Joshua followed behind Matthew without saying anything.
Sophie hadn't expected to see him here. That brief glance felt like a hallucination.
She pouted. What was she expecting anyway?
She couldn't possibly think that man would come care about her.
Even she found the thought laughable.
Coming out of the director's office, Joshua was thrilled inside.
He held back his excitement, his voice slightly trembling, "There's still a chance. You should go prepare early."
Matthew felt nothing inside. From diagnosis to death sentence, he'd already accepted it.
Any chance was just struggling. As for this unknown hope, he took it lightly.
No expectations, no disappointments.
Passing by the IV area again, Matthew glanced inside.
Sophie was still there, not much left in her drip. She seemed to have fallen asleep.
"You stay here." Matthew took off his coat and told Joshua, "Take her home."
Joshua took the coat, hesitating, "Yes."
After Matthew left, he stood next to Sophie, waiting for the IV to finish, then called a nurse.
Sophie woke up with a start. Seeing Joshua, she was quite surprised.
She instinctively looked for Matthew to see if he was there.
"Mr. Moore went back."
Sophie wiped her forehead and slumped in the chair. She felt a bit better, but still had no energy.
After sitting for a while, she got up and picked up her medicine.
Joshua followed behind her.
Walking out of the hospital, the cold air hit her, and she hugged herself against the chill.
Joshua handed her Matthew's coat.
Sophie looked at the coat and laughed mockingly, her voice hoarse as she asked, "What does he mean by this?"
Joshua didn't know either, so he said, "He cares about you."
Whatever his reasons, leaving the coat showed he didn't want her to catch cold.
Sophie took the coat and put it on. She was cold.
His clothes had a faint scent, like the man himself, with a touch of coldness.
In the car, with the heat on full blast, drowsiness hit her immediately.
She didn't know how long had passed when Sophie finally woke up.
The car had already stopped, and Joshua wasn't in it.
She looked out the window and saw Joshua on the phone.
From his posture, he was probably talking to Matthew.
She waited until he finished the call before getting out of the car.
Joshua turned around.
Sophie handed him the coat, "Please thank him for me."
"There's still some distance to go." Joshua didn't take the coat. "If you need anything, you can call me."
Sophie bit her lip and put the coat back on, "Can't I call him?"
Joshua was slightly taken aback, "You can."
After all, Matthew hadn't said she couldn't call him.
"Thanks. I'm heading back." Sophie smiled and turned to walk into the residential area.
Back home, Emily called her. Knowing she'd gone to the hospital alone, Emily gave her an earful.
Listening to her friend's nagging and scolding, Sophie felt warm inside.
After the scolding, Sophie mentioned that Matthew had Joshua take her home and left her his coat.
"Didn't he want to keep his distance from you? What's with this sneaky caring?"
Sophie lay on the sofa looking at the ceiling, glancing at the men's coat draped nearby.
She said, "Maybe he feels responsible for my cold. He's not as cold as I imagined."
Emily couldn't help but worry, "Don't fall for him just because of this little bit of warmth. I'm not being heartless, but he doesn't have much time left."
Emily was afraid she'd fall for him, and when Matthew died, she wouldn't be able to handle it.
"You're overthinking." Sophie sniffled, "I won't."
She wouldn't, and neither would Matthew.
Sophie stayed home sleeping for three days. Emily had to go on a business trip and made her a day's worth of food before leaving.
On the fourth afternoon, with warm sunshine, Sophie went out.
She took Matthew's coat to the dry cleaners.
After it was cleaned, she was carrying it out when someone aggressively blocked her way.
Sophie looked at Harold and frowned.
She hadn't seen him in a while and thought she'd never see him again.
Harold looked at the bag she was carrying. He'd seen it was a men's coat when they were packing it.
"Sophie, don't you think you owe me an explanation?"
Sophie narrowed her eyes, "If you're sick, go to the hospital."
Harold questioned her, "I heard you got married. Right after breaking up with me, you got married. Tell me, which bastard is it?"
Sophie never knew Harold had such a bad temper, or that he could be so unreasonable.
Dating really can't rely on imagination alone - you never know someone's true character until something happens.
"What's the point?" Sophie didn't want to see him at all.
Harold wouldn't let her go, "When did you hook up with that guy? Call him out. He dared to touch my woman, I'll kill him!"
Sophie was disgusted by this brainless way of talking. She glared fiercely at the furious man, "Don't play the victim. You were the one who cheated first."
"If you'd come back earlier, I wouldn't have. I went to find you, even booked a hotel room and you wouldn't be with me... You call that dating? I'm a man. If you won't give it to me, can't I find someone else? You forced me to do it!"
Harold accused her as if he'd suffered some great injustice.
"I don't want to argue about this with you. It's pointless now. Let's just part on good terms." Sophie tried to leave.
Harold wouldn't let her go, "You posted that video, and you still thought we could part on good terms?"
"So what do you want?"
"Get back together with me, and I'll pretend nothing happened."
People really do laugh when they're speechless.
Sophie looked at him like he was an idiot and walked around him.
"Sophie!"
Harold grabbed her hand tightly, "I'm giving you a chance, don't be ungrateful."
Sophie looked back at his hand, "Let go!"
"Come with me!" Harold forcibly pulled Sophie.
Sophie struggled, and Harold gripped even harder.
He dragged Sophie toward his car and reached for the door with his other hand.
The more Sophie struggled, the harder he gripped.
The car door opened, and Harold pushed Sophie inside.
Sophie swung the clothes she'd just picked up at Harold's head.
The weight of the clothes had no impact on Harold at all, but only made him angrier.
He pushed Sophie hard, and she fell back onto the seat.
Sophie kicked out, and Harold pressed into the car.
"Harold, you're dead!"
Sophie was both anxious and angry. She punched and kicked, pulled out her phone and keychain and smashed them hard on Harold's head and face.
She didn't hold back, hitting him like crazy.
Harold hadn't expected Sophie to be so fierce. If she'd had a knife, she definitely would have stabbed him.
Some passerby must have called the police. When they arrived, Harold was covering his face and wailing, backing out of the car.
Sophie took the opportunity to get out, her hair messy, face flushed, breathing heavily.
She saw Harold's forehead was bleeding, his face covered in bruises, looking quite pathetic.
Both of them were taken to the police station.