"No... That’s right, you’re right about everything." In the past, if Alia Garcia was scolded like this by him, she would have retaliated long ago, but now, she knows why this man is angry with her.
On one hand, he indeed cares about her and is afraid that she might get hurt because of him.
On the other hand, he’s been under a lot of pressure both internally and externally these days, and his emotions are a bit out of control.
Thinking of this, Alia Garcia beca even more heartbroken and wished he would vent his frustrations thoroughly, as it would make him feel better.
She couldn’t help in other ways, but she could be a scapegoat; after all, being scolded didn’t hurt or itch.
Christopher Hart was also surprised to see that she wasn’t angry after being inexplicably scolded but instead good-temperedly agreed with his words, rendering him speechless.
The two of them ended up sitting face to face just like that.
Seeing him staring at her, covered in sweat, with a complex expression, the woman blinked her eyes, encouragingly saying, "Go on! I’m waiting to be lectured!"
As soon as she said that, Christopher Hart imdiately understood everything.
This woman was doing it intentionally, letting him vent his anger.
He imdiately regretted it and pulled the woman into his embrace, burying his face in her shoulder, "Alia, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lost my temper with you."
"You don’t need to apologize, I understand."
Christopher Hart was overwheld with guilt.
It was because he knew Alia understood everything that he felt even more remorseful.
Alia Garcia saw he was silent, so she patted his back to comfort him, "Haste makes waste. Let’s just practice until here today. It’s so late, if you don’t sleep, the doctor also needs rest. Will you stay and talk with , please?"
The man pondered for a mont and nodded.
"Then I’ll help you up."
Alia Garcia was about to get up, but the man’s arm didn’t let go, instead, he hugged tighter.
She was puzzled, "What’s wrong?"
A voice ca from her shoulder, "Nothing, just want to hug a bit longer..." His words were full of childlike innocence.
"..." She didn’t know what to say, so she quietly let him hug her.
After a while, when his emotions cald, he released the woman from his arms.
"Alia, you don’t have to be considerate just out of sympathy for . I still hope you would be as fierce as before, to yell at whenever you’re wronged, to treat like a normal person." Christopher Hart looked at the gentle and bright woman in front of him and said sincerely.
Alia Garcia thought seriously for a mont, then nodded, "Alright! Next ti you inexplicably scold , I won’t be polite!"
The man curled his lips, his smile was very weary and faint, "There won’t be a next ti, I’m afraid."
Seeing his smile, Alia Garcia felt much better. Suddenly, she realized sothing, her face darkened, and looked at him, asking, "What did you just say? You hope I’ll be as fierce as before?"
Her expression and tone grew dangerously, "So in your eyes, I’m a shrew?"
"No, no, I didn’t an that..." Christopher Hart’s expression also changed, racking his brain for an explanation.
"Then what do you an?"
"What I an is... you used to be so strong-willed, never allowing any sand in your eyes, and if you were wronged, you would definitely pay it back. That’s good, that way I won’t be afraid of you being bullied outside." Mr. Hart finally found his words, full of survival instinct.
Alia Garcia snorted coldly, sourly said, "Rest assured, except for you, I won’t be wronged by others."
"So, I’m special?"
"Of course, you’re the father of my child."
"Is that all?"
The woman raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing him, "Oh... and my ex-husband."
"..." Mr. Hart’s face imdiately darkened significantly.
Alia Garcia laughed, patted him, "Alright, get up! Go freshen up and change clothes. I brought so snacks; you’ve been training for so long, you must be hungry, have sothing to eat!"
"Okay."
Alia Garcia stood up first, but suddenly exclaid.
Christopher Hart was startled, "What’s wrong? Did you fall and hurt yourself?"
She looked at the food container beside her that had been overturned, and with a bitter face said, "I was in such a hurry that I forgot I was holding sothing in my hand, it must have spilled everywhere."
Christopher Hart smiled faintly again, reached over to pick up the bag, and opened it one by one, "Hmm... the noodles are spilled, and the pastries are ruined, but it’s still edible..."
As he spoke, he picked up a shrimp dumpling and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing as he looked at her and asked, "Where did you get this takeout? It’s quite good."
"From the restaurant our company booked for the annual eting."
"Here, try." He picked up another one and fed it to the woman.
Alia Garcia frowned with disdain, "You didn’t even wash your hands; isn’t that dirty..." Despite saying this, she still happily opened her mouth to take the shrimp dumpling.
Mr. Hart said philosophically, "A little dirt, no sickness after eating."
The two of them were not in a hurry to get up, sitting there, taking turns eating the spilled midnight snack until it was completely gone.
"See, nothing went to waste." Mr. Hart looked at the cleanly emptied food containers with great pride.
Alia Garcia ate until she hiccupped, stood up, and pulled him, "Let’s go, it’s so late!"
The three doctors had long sneaked away, leaving the large rehabilitation therapy room with just the two of them.
Without anyone to help, they had no choice but to handle it themselves, putting in considerable effort before finally getting Christopher Hart up and into a wheelchair.
Alia Garcia pushed the wheelchair, and the two of them left the rehabilitation departnt.
"Have you been staying in the hospital these days?"
"Yes, the room next to my mom’s was vacated, so I’m staying there."
ntioning Emma Carter, Alia Garcia recalled the scene she had seen at the door of the ward earlier, and after a mont of silence, asked, "How is your mom’s condition? Has the surgery date been confird?"
At the ntion of this, Christopher Hart’s previously relaxed expression beca solemn and serious again.
"The doctor’s plan is to focus on neoadjuvant therapy first. If it’s effective, surgery might not be necessary, but if not, surgery will be needed."
She asked, "Neoadjuvant therapy, that’s usually chemotherapy, right?"
Christopher Hart was a bit surprised, "You know quite a lot."
Alia Garcia softly said, "Did you forget? My mom also passed away from breast cancer."
Christopher Hart turned back, his face suddenly changed.
"Alia..."
"You don’t need to comfort ; it’s been many years, and the grief and sadness have long been forgotten. I just feel regretful that I was too young back then to understand my mom’s pain and didn’t get to accompany her properly."
Christopher Hart signaled her to stop the wheelchair, turned around, and took her hand with concern, "Aunt definitely wished you didn’t understand so you could suffer less."
"Maybe..."
The two returned to the outside of the ward, and Christopher Hart wanted to check on Emma Carter first before going back to his room.
Although Alia Garcia sympathized with Emma Carter, she wasn’t inclined to care about or visit her.
Besides, Emma Carter might not want to see her anyway.
So, outside the ward, she stopped, "It’s getting late, go in and accompany your mother, I should head back."
Christopher Hart was reluctant to see her leave.
"Can you wait for a while?" he almost humbly asked.
"Is there sothing you need?"
"Yes, sothing."
"Okay then, I’ll wait in your room."
"Okay."
Alia Garcia went into Christopher Hart’s room, and Christopher Hart went into Emma Carter’s room.
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