Chapter 20
Chapter 20
THE NEXT DAY
ROSALIE
旭成32%售
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When I woke the next morning, my body felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds. The fever hadn’t completely broken, leaving me weak and groggy despite the medication. My head throbbed faintly, and every muscle in my body protested as I shifted in bed.
My mind wandered back to Damien’s attitude throughout yesterday.
Damien had been… soft. Gentle, even. I could hardly believe it was the same man who’d forced me outside, who’d yelled at me until I was too exhausted to argue back. The same man who had a temper so fierce it felt like a storm waiting to strike.
But last night? Last night, he’d adjusted my blanket with care, brought me food, and insisted on feeding me when I refused. He hadn’t yelled, hadn’t sneered, hadn’t tried to assert his usual control.
It felt strange, unsettling even. Like I was seeing a side of him that didn’t quite fit with everything else I knew about him.
But I wasn’t naive enough to think it meant anything. Damien Hale wasn’t the kind of man who changed overnight.
I groaned softly, forcing myself to sit up. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten much. Reluctantly, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, wobbling slightly as dizziness washed over me.
Gripping the wall for support, I made my way out of the room and down the stairs.
The faint sound of voices and clattering dishes reached my ears as I approached the kitchen.
I paused at the doorway, confused at the sight that greeted me. Two women stood inside, both dressed in matching maid outfits. One was at the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease, while the other was arranging a platter of fruits on the
counter.
They noticed me immediately.
“Good morning, Mrs Hale,” the one at the stove greeted with a warm smile.
“Morning Mrs Hale,” the other chimed in, setting down the platter and clasping her hands in front of her.
I blinked at them, unsure of what to say. “Who… who are the two of you?”
The woman at the stove turned off the burner and stepped closer, wiping her hands on a towel. “I’m Margaret, the cook Mr. Hale hired,” she said, her voice pleasant and professional.
“And I’m Maria,” the other woman added, giving me a small nod. “Mr. Hale hired me to be your caregiver while you’re unwell.”
I stared at them, my mind struggling to process their words. “He… hired you both?”
“Yes, Mrs Hale,” Margaret said with a polite smile. “Mr. Hale instructed us to ensure you’re well taken care of.”
I couldn’t hide my disbelief. “A cook and a… caregiver.”
Maria nodded. “He was very specific about making sure you had everything you needed. If there’s anything we can do for you, just let us know.”
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I shook my head, still trying to wrap my mind around it. Damien had hired staff… for me?
“What exactly are you supposed to do?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended as I looked at Maria.
She didn’t seem fazed. “I’m here to assist you with anything you need,” she said calmly. “Whether it’s bringing you meals, helping you move around, or just making sure you’re comfortable.”
I scoffed, crossing my arms despite the ache in my muscles. “He got me a nanny?”
Maria smiled, her expression remaining neutral. “I’m here to help, Mrs Hale. If you don’t want my assistance, I’ll stay out of your way unless you call for me.”
Margaret stepped in then, her tone softer. “Would you like some breakfast, Mrs Hale? I’ve just made pancakes.
My stomach betrayed me with another growl, but I ignored it, too bewildered to focus on food. “I don’t understand,” I muttered, more to myself than to them. “Why would he…?”
Margaret and Maria exchanged a quick glance, but neither said anything.
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. This was Damien. Nothing he did made sense. One moment, he was locking me out of the house; the next, he was hiring people to watch over me like I was a fragile doll.
Just then the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. I turned just as Damien walked into the kitchen, his suit jacket slung over one shoulder and his tie slightly loosened. His presence was already annoying me.
“Good morning,” he said, his tone lighter than I expected. His eyes flicked between Margaret and Maria before settling on me. “I see you’ve met Margaret and Maria.”
I didn’t respond, only looking at him briefly.
“I hired them yesterday evening,” Damien continued, ignoring my silence. “Margaret’s here to handle meals, and Maria’s here to take care of you when I’m at work.”
I didn’t look up. I didn’t want to.
Damien sighed, stepping closer. “Rosalie,” he said, his voice softer now. “How are you feeling? Did you sleep okay?”
I didn’t answer. The silent treatment wasn’t just my defense–it was my protest.
He waited a moment, his eyes scanning my face for any hint of acknowledgment. When he didn’t get one, his jaw tightened, but he quickly masked it.
“You should go upstairs,” he said finally, his tone taking on a hint of authority. “You’re still not strong enough to be moving around like this. I’ll bring you breakfast.”
I didn’t argue, though part of me wanted to. My body wasn’t up for the fight. Without a word, I made my way toward the stairs. I felt his eyes on me as I walked, noticing how I stumbled slightly, but I didn’t look back.
Not long after, Damien returned to the bedroom with a fresh tray of food. He set it down on the nightstand and pulled up chair, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Rosalie,” he began, his voice calm but firm. “You need to eat.”
I turned my head away, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of compliance.
He exhaled, clearly frustrated but trying to remain patient. “I’m trying here, okay? Just let me help you.”
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I didn’t move.
He picked up the spoon and held it out toward me. “Come on,” he coaxed. “Let me feed you.”
“I can feed myself,” I muttered, my voice barely audible.
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He paused, his jaw clenching slightly. “You’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met,” he said, his tone growing strained. “You’d rather starve than let me take care of you?”
I finally turned to look at him, my glare sharp despite my weakened state.
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“Stubborn?” I repeated bitterly. “You think bringing me meals, hiring staffs for me and trying to feed me will erase everything you’ve done? The bullying in high school? The way you’ve treated me in this marriage? If you think this changes anything, you’re mistaken.”
My words seemed to hit him like a slap. For a moment, he said nothing, his expression unreadable. Then he set the spoon down on the tray with more force than necessary.
“I’m trying,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice low. “You think this is easy for me? I’m doing everything I can to fix this, to fix us, but you don’t want to meet me halfway. You don’t want to let me try.”
I didn’t respond. There was nothing left to say.
He stared at me for another moment, then stood abruptly. “Fine,” he muttered, his frustration evident. “If you want to be this stubborn, so be it. But you’re going to eat, whether I feed you or not.”
With that, he turned and stormed out of the room, muttering angrily under his breath.
I watched him leave, my chest tight with a mixture of anger and exhaustion. For a long moment, I just sat there, staring at the door he’d slammed behind him.
Finally, I turned to the tray of food. My stomach growled, and despite my pride, I picked up the fork and began to eat.
He wasn’t going to get any satisfaction from me. Not like this.
