Facade of Love

Chapter 12

Chapter 12 Let’s Talk!

Seeing Mr. Zachary standing by the car holding a food box, I was taken aback. I quickly walked over. Mr. Zachary, why didn’t you ring the doorbell? It’s cold outside.”

Mr. Zachary smiled and handed me the food box. “This is from Madam Young. She said you might be going to the hospital to take care of Mr. Young today, so she asked me to bring this to you. It saves you the trouble of making breakfast.”

I pursed my l*ps. Madam Young was really bending herself backward to take care of her grandson. She must have known about Idris‘ heroics and was worried I would not take care of him well enough, so she asked me to go to the hospital in the name of bringing breakfast.

How tiring. I sighed inwardly, took the food box, and said, “Thank you for making the trip, Mr. Zachary.”

He smiled and said, “Madam Young hasn’t been feeling well recently. She said she’ll have to trouble you to take care of Mr. Young in the meantime. She also wanted me to tell you to visit her with him in the old manor once he’s discharged.”

I nodded and smiled. “Alright, we’ll go over as soon as he’s out.”

After seeing Mr. Zachary leave, I looked at the food box in my hand and sighed silently. Idris was already being taken care of by Moore, so my presence was not needed. However, now that Madam Young had requested, I could not refuse.

After some hesitation, I headed to the hospital.

Inside the hospital room, Moore was sitting beside the bed holding a bowl of soup, saying in a gentle tone to Idris, who was leaning on the bed, “Iddy, I made this soup for you this morning. Try some.” She then tried to feed him.

Idris pushed the spoon away, looked at her, and said, “I’m not hungry yet.”

Seeing this, Moore did not press him and simply put the bowl aside. “Does your wound still hurt?”

Idris shook his head. “It’s a minor injury. I’m fine. You’ve been up all night. You should go get some rest.”

Moore shook her head. “I can’t rest peacefully knowing you’re lying here. Let me stay.”

Some things lost their impact when one witnessed them too much; I was ready to lean against the door frame and ponder whether I should have a nurse take the food in.

Before I could lean against the frame, Idris‘ eyes met mine. His cold gaze scrutinized me. “How long do you plan on standing there?”

Seeing him looking my way, I walked straight into the room and put the food box on a side table. I looked at him and said, “Sorry for the bad timing.”

I then opened the food box and took out the nutritious breakfast Madam Young had prepared. I pulled up a chair and sat down, glancing at Idris and Moore. “This is from Madam Young. She asked me to deliver it. You can continue with what you were doing. I won’t disturb you.‘

Idris frowned, turned to Moore, and said, “You should go and get some rest.” Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

Moore looked at him, her eyes filled with sorrow. “Iddy, I’m worried about you.”

“Go back!” His words were tinged with noticeable irritation and impatience.

Moore understood and, although reluctant, got up and left the room.

Once she had left, Idris looked at me before his gaze fell on the food box. “Why don’t you open it?”

I frowned, tempted to retort that his hands were not broken, so why could he not open it himself?

Nonetheless, I held back and opened the box for him. Moore’s soup was in the way, so I threw it in the

trash.

He looked at me without saying a word. His handsome face was unreadable.

I handed him the spoon and said emotionlessly, “Would you like me to take it back out of the trash?”

He looked away and scoffed. “Yvette, you’ve really maximized the use of that trash can.

I could hear the sarcasm in his words.

I pursed my l*ps and sat back down, calmly saying, “Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Young.”

He glanced at me but did not say anything, simply starting to eat gracefully. The food had been prepared according to his palate by the Youngs, so he seemed to enjoy it.

It might have been because he was satisfied with the meal that he eventually put his spoon down and looked at me. “Yvette, let’s talk.”

I gathered my thoughts and looked at him. “About what?”

“About me and Moore,” he said calmly, his demeanor nonchalant. He was certainly maintaining the elegance he always had, a trademark of any young man from a prestigious family.