CHAPTER 58: CHAPTER 58: HE COULD BE A FATHER TO THE CHILD

Obviously a patient.

Yet he’s stronger than her.

She wonders how he built those muscles.

Poppy Hale calculates in her mind, perhaps it’s just that she’s too weak.

She usually has to wrap a paper around a bottle to open it. She surely is no match for Declan Hawthorne’s iron grip.

The warmth from the man’s palm is quite hot.

Along with the skin he’s holding, the temperature rises.

Poppy Hale shook her wrist but couldn’t break free.

The lights in the ward were off.

By the light from the window and the bedside lamp, she could clearly see Declan’s expression.

Pale, with a sickly visage.

From up close, this face is more exquisite than any male lead from the recent game Poppy Hale worked on.

They used faces of some well-known heartthrobs in entertainment as modeling bases.

Yet, in front of Declan, they all seem to lack something.

Such an expression is both unfamiliar and familiar to Poppy Hale.

Seeing her about to leave,

Declan grabbed her hand, pulling her onto himself.

As she struggled, she heard him groan.

She had pressed against his stomach.

Poppy Hale didn’t dare to move recklessly, fearing to press on his IV line.

It’s just the two of them here, if anything happens to him, it would be her trouble.

Declan’s voice sounded above her head.

Close to her ear, resonating all the way down.

He repeated, "I’ll pay you overtime."

"Five times."

Poppy first asked him to let go, struggling to no avail.

She chuckled in exasperation.

"Has President Hawthorne now become someone who buys everything with money?"

Her words carried subtle sarcasm.

Declan applied some strength to his arm.

"Can it be bought?"

As he spoke, his warm breath hit Poppy’s ear.

Like a murmur, or perhaps a repeated, uncertain probe.

"Can it be bought, what I want?"

"That depends on what President Hawthorne wants to buy."

Declan was running a fever, his body temperature high like a furnace, embracing her.

"Buy you, stay with me tonight. Can you?"

Poppy Hale let out a barely audible sigh.

"Money can’t buy everything, President Hawthorne."

She struggled out of Declan’s embrace.

Poppy stood up and left without looking back.

Not to mention Mrs. Hale is waiting upstairs.

Even if she had nothing else tonight, she wouldn’t linger here.

To her, Declan is now just a stranger boss, nothing more.

At the third-floor emergency exit, Allen Shaw and Morgan Sloan were smoking, watching Poppy Hale leave.

Then they returned to the ward.

Declan took the medicine and swallowed it down.

Allen exclaimed, "So effective? Miss Hale left just like that? I saw her going upstairs, is there a patient from her family here?"

Declan paused.

With a sidelong glance, he looked at Morgan.

Soon, Morgan left and returned again.

"Young Hale’s mother is upstairs, having heart surgery tomorrow. I’ve paid for the surgery with the Rivers Group’s welfare fund and President Hawthorne’s personal donation."

Declan nodded slightly.

"Transfer from my personal account, also tip the doctor some; find the best one, and if necessary, hire an expert for a special operation, I’ll pay for it."

"Okay."

Allen laughed at him, "She’s the one you said was the ex-girlfriend who cheated on you? Eh, your arm doesn’t look like it’s been bitten by a dog."

Wearing a suit during the day hid the bite marks on his arm.

Now in a t-shirt, the bite mark was very visible.

Just looking at it makes it painful.

Plus, being on the inner arm, it was obviously from holding someone when it was bitten.

Morgan: "..."

Is this something he should be hearing?

Young Hale was actually President Hawthorne’s ex-girlfriend, and she put a green hat on him?

Then doesn’t Young Hale’s husband and child... Morgan wanted to slap himself to stop those thoughts.

Declan watched the IV drip flowing down.

"It doesn’t count as cheating on me."

"Didn’t you say it was revenge?"

Allen scoffed.

Right.

Who would spend tens of thousands for revenge, still looking eagerly at the door after calling.

In the end, she came, only to be driven away by him.

"Think it over; she still has a child, will your parents accept it?"

Declan closed his eyes.

"You’re overthinking it."

Right now, he wasn’t thinking about the future.

But if Mrs. Hawthorne and Mr. Hawthorne, along with the Hawthorne Family, didn’t accept her child,

he would take her and Florence, never returning to the Hawthorne Family.

The three of them could live well away from the Hawthorne Family.

Shocked by this thought.

For a moment.

Declan realized that while he said Allen was overthinking, he couldn’t help constantly thinking about this matter.

Even, he had planned the future.

Morgan took a call.

"President Hawthorne, the hospital said Young Hale returned the money you paid."

As he spoke, he watched Declan’s expression.

"Tell her the doctor can’t be refunded."

The doctor had been personally hired by Declan overnight, already en route.

Declan knew, even if Poppy Hale was willful, she wouldn’t joke about her mother’s health.

Sure enough.

A moment later, Morgan returned.

"Regarding the doctor, Young Hale said thank you to President Hawthorne."

It counted as accepting his goodwill.

Morgan added, "When I went, there was a young man at Young Hale’s place, seemed like Young Mr. Rivers of the Rivers Group."

Mason Rivers?

If not for running into them here, Declan wouldn’t know Mrs. Hale was having surgery tomorrow.

Yet Mason came.

Thinking back to the bar when Mason heard about Poppy Hale’s divorce, the unconcealable joy in his eyes.

Declan’s face, which just improved a little, fell again.

He leaned back, closed his eyes.

His mind full of memories of university times, Mason and her together.

When she was angry, she would kick Mason, scold him, and throw tantrums at him.

Those emotions were never shown to him.

She was always cautious, loving him, afraid of showing any trace of displeasure on his face.

Afraid he wouldn’t like her.

But she didn’t know, he would also be jealous.

Jealous she didn’t throw tantrums at him.

Upstairs.

Mrs. Hale had fallen asleep, Mason Rivers put down the fruit and left.

At the door, he whispered, "I sent Auntie a red envelope, if you need anything from me, just ask."

Poppy Hale felt thankful.

"I’ll treat you to a meal later."

"No need, just take the time to care for Auntie. If you can’t manage, you can leave Florence with me for a few days, I’ll look after her."

Poppy Hale eyed Mason Rivers defensively.

"My daughter is only two, you don’t have any criminal tendencies, do you..."

"What are you saying! I just want a niece like Florence!"

Mason stood before Poppy Hale.

Looking at her fair face.

Delicate features, carrying a cold demeanor that kept people at a distance, without years of friendship, Mason felt he probably wouldn’t even have the chance to speak.

Mason’s heart suddenly felt a bit restless.

He slowly opened his mouth, "If Florence needs a dad..."

He abruptly changed his words.

"If she needs a father’s company, I, as an uncle, will do too."

Poppy Hale lightly laughed.

"Thanks. But there’s no need for now."

Mason watched Poppy Hale go back into the room.

Through the glass door, his gaze stayed on her figure.

The words he wanted to say were only known to him, those long-buried emotions that never saw the light of day, grew vigorously at this moment, beyond control.

If Florence needs a dad.

He could be the father to the child.