In the kitchen, a busy figure moved around, with the scent of fish soup wafting out from inside.
At this moment, Micah was completely different from when he went to see Harry, as the coldness had faded from his eyes, replaced with a warmth akin to sunshine, with a touch of tenderness in his expression.
He walked over and gently pushed open the kitchen door, startling the woman inside with his subtle movements.
“You’re back, why didn’t you say anything when you came back? You scared me.”
Micah played along, “Squeak, squeak… is that okay?”
Hattie laughed, “Are you a mouse?”
Hattie didn’t die. When she was shot, Micah quickly attended to her, barely stopping the bleeding and taking her to the hospital. Although there was no immediate danger to her life, she did see flashbacks like those one would see before death. But she woke up.
The first thing she saw upon waking up was Micah, who had been tirelessly taking care of her, his sharp eyes now bloodshot and weary, his chin sporting stubble, and the veins on his forehead never fading due to constant tension.
Even before she opened her eyes, Micah knew she would wake up. Holding warm water, he would let her moisten her throat as soon as she opened her eyes. He always knew where she felt the most discomfort, sometimes even better than she did.
“Why aren’t you resting properly and thinking about cooking?” Micah walked over and naturally took the spoon from Hattie’s hand. The fish soup was clear, with one pot of fish soup and one pot of bone broth.
“Haven’t we agreed that I would handle the cooking? Go sit on the sofa and rest, I’ll make a few more dishes.”
“Resting all day, either lying down or cooking, don’t you know that appropriate activity is good for recovery?” Micah said.
“I’ll accompany you for a walk for some exercise.”
“What’s wrong with me doing this? I want to try making soup for you to drink.”
Micah fell silent. He was always worried that he didn’t do well enough and then Hattie would leave. He had always been timid, so he always tried to be the first to leave.
Compared to the word “love,” Micah thought “habit” was easier. He wanted Hattie to get used to his presence.
When Hattie took a bowl, a spoon, scooped half a bowl of soup and picked up a forkful of fish, she extended the fish towards Micah’s mouth, saying, “Taste it.”
Micah was slightly stunned, stiff like a robot, and opened his mouth to take the fish. The delicious taste of the fish spread in his mouth, but his mind was filled with images of Hattie feeding him fish.
Hattie didn’t notice Micah’s strange behavior and offered the bowl of soup to him. “Taste the soup.”
Micah held Hattie’s hand and drank the soup.
“How does it taste?”
“Delicious, the fish is tasty.”
Hattie smiled, “See, my cooking isn’t worse than yours, so you can rely on me to cook in the future.”
Micah’s heart stirred, reminding him of a phrase: “Meals with friends, nothing more than worldly pleasures.”
Though these days were modest, they were filled with happiness. Micah caught onto the two words “in the future” that Hattie mentioned. How long and how far was the future?
Hattie was happy when she cooked, and seeing others enjoy her cooking made her feel accomplished and happy. Micah hadn’t seen this side of Hattie in a long time, so he didn’t stop her from cooking. Let her do it if she wanted. As for the hard work, he would help. Even if her cooking wasn’t perfect, or even if it was a disaster, he would still eat it.
In fact, Hattie’s cooking wasn’t that great. She was just slightly better than her mother. Her soup-making skills were decent, but she was self-aware about her stir-frying abilities. It was either too salty or not salty enough, undercooked or burnt. Stir-frying was a skill that required talent, and she didn’t have that talent, so she didn’t pursue it.
Micah handled the stir-frying, with light meals in the evening – fish soup and two vegetable dishes, cabbage and shredded potatoes.
While cooking, Micah told Hattie about his visit to the prison to see Harry.
“Is this enough?”
Micah told Harry that Hattie had died. It was Hattie’s idea, and even though it was a lie, Micah felt uneasy about it. So when he lied to Harry and said Hattie was dead, he never mentioned her name, just referred to her as ‘she’.
Harry was in extreme distress at the time, so he didn’t pay attention to this small detail. Micah didn’t think he could deceive Harry for long, as Hattie wasn’t really dead, and if he wanted to find out, even if he was locked up in prison, he could still find out.
But Hattie understood Harry. “He won’t investigate. That’s the kind of person he is. In his mind, I’m already dead, and he’s the one who killed me. Investigating further will only rub salt in the wound. Besides… he thinks you wouldn’t use my life and death to deceive him.”
Plus, the scene of her falling when she was shot was too shocking, giving Harry the impression that she wouldn’t wake up again. Her ‘death’ could be said to be within Harry’s expectations.
“The surgery agreement for the hospital will be in his hands tomorrow. Will he really cooperate and endure the pain of surgery to live on?” In Micah’s eyes, someone like Harry didn’t deserve to live. His brain cancer was a punishment from heaven, and he deserved to die. Doing surgery on him would be a waste of time and money.