Chapter 223
The thought stoked a simmering rage inside Eric.
“Hadley, weren’t you the one who said you had feelings for me?” His voice dropped, dark and edged, as he pulled her into his chest, holding her tightly.
“You’ve been into me for years! Are you really saying what you feel for Denver is even close to what you once felt for me?”
Eric gently cupped her face, a gesture that made her heart twist in recognition.
As Eric leaned in to kiss her, Hadley quickly turned her head, narrowly avoiding him.
“Hadley?” Eric’s expression darkened, a mix of confusion and anger flickering across his face. She was avoiding him?
Breathing unevenly, Hadley held his gaze, her face torn between fear and defiance.
“Yes, I used to like you, Eric. But wasn’t it you who pushed me away? Weren’t you the one who made it clear you couldn’t stand me?”
Eric froze, his shock evident.
He couldn’t deny it.
Yes, he had hated her once.
But now, things had changed, and the words were caught in his throat. Sensing his moment of weakness, Hadley shoved him with every ounce of strength she had, pushing him back out of the apartment.
“Leave,” she spat. “And don’t come back!”
The door slammed shut with a deafening thud, reverberating through the hallway.
On the other side, Eric stood motionless, staring at the door, his body frozen in disbelief.
It was a weekend day.
Eric decided to visit Ernest.
A while ago, a doctor had mentioned a promising new drug, and Eric had managed to get it from Aradimen. They had already started administering it to Ernest.
𝗢𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹 𝗲𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺: 𝗀Ɐ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝗍𝖊𝗅𝘀﹒ⅽ𝗈𝗺
“How is it going?”
Though Eric appeared composed, he was inwardly anxious.
“Mr. Flynn,” the doctor said, his expression cautiously optimistic. “From what we’ve seen so far, your brother is reacting well to the medication. There’s been a noticeable improvement in his neural reflexes recently.”
Eric’s hope ignited at hearing this. “Really?”
“Mr. Flynn,” the doctor continued, indicating a nearby monitor. “Please, try speaking to him.”
Uncertain but willing to try, Eric complied with the doctor’s advice.
He sat beside Ernest’s bed, gazing at him, and whispered, “Ernest, it’s Eric. Can you hear me? Grandma underwent heart surgery. She’s been waiting years for you to wake up. You’ve rested enough… It’s time to wake up.”
“Mr. Flynn, look,” the doctor said, pointing to the monitor.
Eric turned his attention to the screen. Though not versed in medicine, the increase in Ernest’s heart rate was unmistakable. “What does that mean?”
“You see, Mr. Flynn,” the doctor replied with a gentle smile, “it means he can hear you, even though he hasn’t opened his eyes yet.” Hearing is usually the last sense to fade and the first to return.
Overwhelmed, Eric sat in silence, a slight ease visible on his face as he processed the hopeful sign.
.