CHAPTER 42: SHE IS THE APPLE OF HIS EYE

The faint scent of geraniums spread and quickly permeated the entire room.

After taking a shower, Hilla held the covers tightly, her eyes closed.

Orlenna put the soup by the bedside before she glanced at the reluctant Margaret at the door and said softly to Hilla, "It’s cold today. I’ve turned on the air-conditioner in the room. Margaret is worried about you, and she wanna be here. If there’s something you don’t want to tell me, you can talk to her."

Because they were about the same age and were both girls, Orlenna felt that it should be easier for them to communicate with each other.

However, she forgot that they were not on good terms in the first place. Hilla didn’t respond, but Margaret ran over and said, "Mom, I don’t want to be with her. Now that she ignored you, why should I care about her?"

Margaret wondered if it was because Hilla had been abandoned by someone that she showed such a sad look. Now they had to comfort her. Just thinking about it made Margaret feel that Hilla was so annoying.

Orlenna glanced at Margaret with dissatisfaction and said gently to Hilla. "It’s okay if you want to be alone. Take a good rest. If you have any difficulties, come and tell me. I’ll do my best to help you."

Hilla slowly opened her eyes, looked at Orlenna blankly, and said hesitantly, "Thank you, Mom."

She didn’t want to talk or move now. She was frozen and hadn’t warmed herself up even with thick covers wrapping around her.

She knew that Orlenna was worried about her, but she didn’t have the strength to explain to her.

Orlenna sighed, not disturbing her any further, tucked Hilla in and pulled Margaret out of the room.

"Mom, why are you so nice to her?"

Margaret even suspected if she was adopted. Orlenna scolded her every day but was kind to Hilla who was so rude.

As a daughter, she felt extremely uncomfortable.

"Hilla is more considerate than you. You should go to Bruce’s room to take a look..."

"Bruce must be asleep. Do you think he will wait for her to come back so late at night? What’s so good about Hilla? Why do all of you care so much about her?"

"Go as I told you. Why are you complaining so much? We are a family. Don’t you want to be an Anderson? Or do you want more pocket money from Bruce?"

"Money, money, money, you always lure me with it. Is being an Anderson that good?

I live even worse than Hilla who had been bankrupt."

Margaret couldn’t help but mutter. She felt bitter. Why was Hilla treated better than her by her families? Was she an Anderson or Hilla?

The more she thought about it, the more indignant she felt. She decided to exaggerate Hilla’s miserable appearance. In this way, Bruce could know how tarty Hilla was and divorce her.

"You’re twenty-five. Why do you act like a five-year-old child?"

Orlenna muttered as she watched Margaret leave. When she saw Margaret enter Bruce’s room, she sighed with relief and returned to her room.

At night, the outside was cold in the late autumn.

The air conditioner in the room was on and the temperature was comfortable, but Hilla, who curled up in the covers, felt no warmth.

The room was quiet, and soon, faint sobs could be heard.

Hilla covered her head with the covers, weeping softly.

The room was dark. Only in this way could she relax because she would not be seen, laughed at, or looked down upon. Only when she was alone, could she release the grievances and sorrows without restraint.

The Andersons were good to her, but the nicer they were, the more desolate she felt.

Orlenna cared a lot about her, but she envied Margaret. In the past, she was also like a carefree little princess in the Holt family. She had had her mother’s constant blame and chatter, her father’s love and indulgence, and Halle’s love.

When the silent nights come, those happy memories came flooding back.

In the past, she had taken that happiness for granted and loved to be cared for by them. But now, she had nothing but herself.

Seeing a willful girl like Margaret, Hilla was envious of and happy for her. Hilla knew she could never go back.

She missed home, and no matter how good the Andersons were to her, she wanted her original home.

Hilla grabbed the covers and sniffed deeply. She kept sobbing and finally fell asleep when she became numb to the cold.

The door of the room slowly opened and the man outside went in.

Bruce walked slowly and awkwardly. He hadn’t fully recovered yet. He then reached the bedside and sat down at the end of the bed.

He didn’t immediately check how Hilla was. He just sighed softly. In the quiet room, he sounded soft and low.

"You came back so late. I knew you were running around again, but you should take good care of yourself.

"There’s no excuse for you to come back like this.

"Don’t you know that mother and I were worried about you?"

He slowly finished speaking and reached into the covers. He frowned as he groped for a slender and cold ankle.

"It’s so cold. Why didn’t you take a hot bath? What’s wrong with you? Why do you like to be in the rain like a child?"

Although he was blaming her, there was a hint of affection in his tone.

He turned on the lights in the room but it was not so bright.

Being afraid of wakening up Hilla, Bruce moved slowly and lightly.

In the dim light, the figure on the bed was like a chrysalis. Very soon, Bruce touched her cold feet.

He wanted to warm them in his palms, but unexpectedly, she swiftly dodged the moment he touched them. A faint groan came from the covers when she moved.

Was she injured?

Bruce frowned. He seemed to know that something was wrong with her and lifted the covers by her feet.

There were many blisters on her fair feet, which looked miserable against the white sheet.

Bruce’s face darkened.

He stared at her feet that were covered in blisters. He got distressed.

She had gotten herself into such a mess, no wonder she had refused to go back to the room!

...

Bruce’s breathing was light because he was deliberately holding it to avoid disturbing her.

He grabbed one of Hilla’s ankles. Sensing that Hilla was subconsciously resisting, he held it harder and placed it on his thigh.

"I feel cold!" Hilla moved and made a single sound in a daze. Her voice was full of coquetry.

Bruce’s heart turned tenderer, but he still replied coldly, "Now you know it’s cold. Why didn’t you feel cold when you were outside in the rain?"

His voice was low, but it sounded clear in the quiet room. Hilla seemed to have heard it, or maybe not.

She moved uneasily and retreated her foot. Her exposed calf looked thinner and fragile.

Bruce pressed down on her restless leg and said in a husky voice, "Don’t move."

"I feel cold!"

Hilla quickly drew back her leg from his lap into the blanket. Bruce should feel a sense of loss for the sudden removal of her leg.

Hilla once said that she wanted to take care of him, but before she fulfilled this promise, she had fallen ill several times.

"She couldn’t even take care of herself, and then what she said was unreliable."

Bruce thought to himself. But he still got up and walked to the low cabinet at the side, taking out the medicine box from the cabinet.

This time, when he sat back on the bed, he pulled the covers and her feet over.

Hilla suddenly revealed a flushed face from under the stuffy covers. The refreshing feeling made her uncomfortable as she twisted her body and dragged the covers into her arms wildly. At last, she rubbed her little face and fell asleep.

Bruce looked at her sleeping like a log. There were tears of sadness on her long eyelashes, but she didn’t look being wronged at all.

His lips gradually curled up as he looked at her tenderly. Bruce placed her feet back on his lap and wrapped the blanket around her exposed calves. After opening the medicine box, he took out disinfectant, a swab, and a silver needle from it.

In the quiet room, Bruce held Hilla’s feet that were too horrible to look at in his arms and lowered his head to burst the blisters.

He did it gently and carefully, for fear of waking Hilla or hurting her.

The dim light in the room allowed Hilla to sleep peacefully.

After bursting the blisters and wiping them clean, he slowly applied the ointment.

The painful feeling gradually disappeared. After the medicine was applied to her wounds, Hilla felt no pain but cool.

After Bruce did all the things, Hilla was sleeping soundly with no sign of waking up at all.

"You’re sleeping soundly, heartless!"

Bruce fixed his eyes on the sleeping girl whose little face was exceptionally delicate.

She slept soundly, breathing evenly, sweet and charming.

The covers in her arms were held tightly by her, and she subconsciously curled up.

She seemed to be still extremely cold in her dream.

Bruce raised the temperature of the air conditioner by a few degrees and then carefully lay down beside her. After that, he took her in his arms.

"You know it’s cold, then why did you run out? You’re a troublemaker." The still room was pervaded by Bruce’s voice.

Sensing the heat, the one lying on the bed immediately let go of the quilt, hugged the comfortable heater, and rubbed her face against Bruce’s chest in satisfaction.

In the gloom, a smile touched the corners of his mouth. He bowed his head to kiss her on the forehead and said softly, "Good night!"

At the midnight, Hilla felt that she was at first very cold, but later she became warm all over the body as if she had fallen into a ball of warm cotton, feeling so comfortable that she was unwilling to let go.

It was only at the end that she felt hot, like on fire. She wanted to find an exit, but she couldn’t move.

Early in the morning, Horton was called over before dawn. When he saw Bruce’s sulky face, his bad mood in the morning dispersed.

"Don’t worry. She just caught a cold and had a fever. She’ll be fine after the fever is gone."

Horton instantly comforted Bruce at the sight of his gloomy face. Then, he gave Hilla an injection and carefully examined her.

Orlenna at the side anxiously looked at Hilla, who was covered in sweat and kept having nightmares.

When Hilla came back yesterday, Orlenna knew that something was wrong, but she did not expect that Hilla would run a high fever at midnight. If Bruce had not been with Hilla all night, Hilla might have a risk.

Orlenna sized up Bruce. Although he kept a straight face, Orlenna knew that the more expressionless he was, the more worried he was.

"Should we send Hilla to the hospital? Why is she still burning after so long?"

Hilla’s body temperature had risen to 104 degrees Fahrenheit in the middle of the night, which scared the Andersons. If Tyree was not busy with the company, he would have come over.

Orlenna was woken up by Horton before dawn. When she came in and saw Bruce sitting by the bed, she understood everything.

Bruce was so distressed that he had alarmed the whole family before daybreak.

Horton comforted, "It’s fine. It takes a certain amount of time for the medicine to take effect. This is not a panacea that can instantly reduce the fever."

"Hilla is as strong as a cow. I believe she will be jumping around very soon."

Before Horton could finish his sentence, he received a glare from Bruce. He immediately stopped and said seriously, "Observe her for half an hour first."

Only then did Orlenna heave a sigh of relief. Margaret pouted and said with dissatisfaction, "She just got a fever. Why are you so nervous and called all of us? If she dies of illness, are you going to let us all die with her?"

Although Margaret’s voice was low, it was loud enough for the rest of them to hear.

Suddenly, everyone’s gaze fell on her.

She became the focus of the room. Orlenna snorted and pinched her arm hard. "Come out with me."

Orlenna thought, What nonsense are you talking about? Didn’t you see Bruce’s horrible look?

Why can’t you grow up and let me rest assured? What good would it do you to provoke Bruce?

After the two left, Horton glanced at Bruce, who put on a sullen face, and couldn’t help but laugh, "Aren’t you being too biased? Look at how wronged Margaret is. You used to see her as the apple of your eye."

Bruce turned his eyes to Horton and replied seriously, "I can only have an apple of my eye!"