In the following days, Stella Sterling almost ran to the hospital every day.
After all, Jasper Hawthorne took a knife for her.
So after work, she brought a fruit basket to the hospital.
However, as soon as she pushed open the ward door, her steps halted.
The air was filled with the scent of disinfectant, and...
A faint, almost imperceptible fragrance?
Her gaze involuntarily fell on the bedside table—where the glass vase, empty yesterday, was now holding a bouquet of vibrant...
Chrysanthemums?
Stella: "..."
Who visits a patient and brings chrysanthemums?
Jasper Hawthorne was leaning against the headboard, and he clearly saw the bouquet too. His expression grew even darker, his lips pressed tightly.
"The flowers..." Stella pointed, her expression complex.
Jasper closed his eyes, his voice hoarse: "Shane Donovan... just left."
Stella instantly understood—Shane Donovan!
You really have a way!
"President Donovan... is so considerate," Jasper spat the words through clenched teeth, sounding more like a curse than gratitude.
Stella awkwardly tugged at the corners of her lips, placing the fruit basket far from the chrysanthemums.
Jasper looked at her, his voice softening, "Stella... Stella, thank you for visiting me."
Stella put down the fruit basket, "How are you feeling today? What did the doctor say?"
"Alright..." He paused, his gaze falling on her face, "Just that the wound still aches a bit."
Stella responded with a faint "mm," without continuing the conversation.
The air was thick with awkwardness.
Jasper seemed to seize the opportunity, speaking lowly: "I remember when I was sick before, you’d always make porridge for me..."
"That’s in the past." Stella cut him off expressionlessly, getting up to pour a glass of water, wanting to end the topic.
However, just as she picked up the kettle, the ward door was pushed open again.
Shane Donovan returned, holding an exquisite insulated container.
As if he didn’t see Jasper’s instantly stiffened expression, he walked straight to Stella’s side, naturally taking the kettle from her hand and gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"I guessed you’d be here." His voice was low, with a barely detectable warmth, "Haven’t had dinner, right? I made some shredded chicken porridge, the flavor you like."
He shook the container in his hand, only then seemingly noticing the conspicuous chrysanthemums, his gaze sweeping over them calmly: "Attorney Hawthorne, do you like the flowers? They match the room’s atmosphere well."
Jasper’s chest tightened, aggravating the wound, and he groaned, his face looking even worse.
Stella felt helpless inside—this guy did it on purpose!
Shane had already turned to her, opening the container, revealing the fragrant shredded chicken porridge and several refreshing side dishes.
"Eat some while it’s hot." He handed her a spoon, his tone gentle, completely ignoring the real patient on the bed.
Stella felt the situation was tricky, "I... I’ll just head to the restroom."
As soon as she left the ward, the atmosphere inside instantly plummeted to freezing.
The warmth on Shane’s face vanished without a trace, as he slowly adjusted his cuff, his gaze as cold as icy steel, fixed on Jasper.
"Had enough of acting? Attorney Hawthorne." He spoke, his voice biting cold.
Jasper forced himself to sit up a bit straighter, his eyes fierce, "Shane Donovan, what do you mean?"
"I mean, stop with the pity tricks."
Shane let out a sneering laugh, his gaze sharp as an eagle’s, "Getting stabbed and expecting her to have a change of heart? Jasper Hawthorne, you’re overestimating yourself and underestimating her."
"The matters between us are none of your concern!"
"She’s my fiancée now."
Shane stepped forward, looking down on him, "You treated her love like dust in the past, and now you pretend to be deeply affectionate after losing her—isn’t it a bit too late?"
His every word was like a barbed whip, lashing at Jasper’s most painful spots.
Jasper’s chest heaved violently, his breathing rapid, the bandages over his wound showing a faint red: "What do you know?! Between us, we have five years of emotion..."
"Five years?"
Shane acted as if he’d heard the biggest joke, interrupting him, undisguised ridicule in his eyes, "Five years of neglect and hurt? That’s what you call feelings? Jasper Hawthorne, do you deserve to even mention those words?"
He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering, each word piercing, "I will shower her with the love of the entire world, not letting her endure a single grievance. If she wants the stars, I would never pick the moon. If she frowns, I can make the person who displeases her disappear."
Shane straightened, his gaze domineering, "Can you do all that?"
Jasper was left speechless by his question, the pain deep in his heart far worse than any wound.
He wanted to retort, to say he could too, but the neglect and assumption over the past five years hung heavily, leaving him unable to justify himself.
What could he offer in comparison to Shane Donovan?
Just as his face turned ashen, on the brink of being swallowed by despair—
"Bang!"
The ward door was forcefully pushed open from the outside, slamming loudly against the wall.
Immediately, an anxious middle-aged woman, supported by Grace Quinn, rushed in like the wind!
"Jasper!"
May Wright saw her son’s pale face and the blood seeping through his chest, her voice trembling with heartache, rushing to the bedside, "What happened? How did you get hurt like this?! Do you want to scare your mother to death?!"
Her sudden appearance shattered the tense atmosphere between the two men in the room.
Jasper saw his mother, initially stunned, then his gaze fell on the worried Grace Quinn beside her, his brows furrowing deeply: "Mom? Why are you here? Grace, did you..."
Grace quickly interrupted, her tone filled with genuine concern, "Auntie heard you got hurt and was so worried, she insisted on coming to see you right away! I... I really couldn’t stop her..."
May clutching her son’s hand tightly, tears streaming down, "You child, such a big thing happened and you didn’t tell mom! If Grace hadn’t told me, I would’ve been kept in the dark! If something happened to you, how would mom live?!"
Jasper, overwhelmed by his mother’s tears, the pain from his wound, and the stifling confrontation with Shane earlier, his complexion worsened.
Meanwhile, Stella also returned from the restroom, standing at the doorway, her brows slightly furrowed at the sight of the two unexpected new arrivals in the ward—
"Stella?"
May heard the commotion now, and turning her head, she saw Stella standing at the door. It was as if something suddenly clicked in her, "Why are you here? Jasper wouldn’t have gotten hurt because of you, would he..."
"Mom!" Jasper abruptly interrupted his mother, his tone carrying suppressed anger, "What nonsense are you saying! It’s not her fault!"
May was taken aback by her son’s shout, then felt even more aggrieved: "You’re still defending her even like this? Jasper, wake up! She’s no longer thinking of you, she’s about to get engaged to someone else!"