Behind the door, on the other side of the crowd, Callie stood holding a cup of hot water, staring blankly.
She felt a bit bitter, unsure of her emotions. She guessed that Nelson had gone to the small room to avoid disturbing her rest.
But now she couldn’t even squeeze in.
A servant was carrying a pot of soup towards the small room.
Callie hesitated and spoke up, “Nancy, let me do it.”
The servant noticed Callie and smiled awkwardly, “Alright, ma’am, you do it.”
Callie took the soup, opened the door, and walked in.
The IV drip had finished, and Nelson was removing the needle. With the wall lamp on, he looked gentle and refined, perhaps less imposing due to his illness.
Seeing Callie, Nelson frowned.
In his muddled state, he had forgotten she was at Paucaster Villa. He probably didn’t want her to know, as his pride wouldn’t allow him to show any weakness.
Or maybe he didn’t want her to worry.
As this thought crossed his mind, Nelson chuckled at himself; he was actually afraid.
Callie didn’t know what he was thinking. She put down the soup and met his gaze with a mix of playfulness and reproach.
She touched his forehead to check his temperature.
Nelson took her hand and held it, coaxing, “It’s not hot anymore.”
His voice was hoarse from illness, and Callie felt a surge of emotions. She simply asked, “Why are you sleeping here?”
“When I came back, you were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”
In that small room, they shed their suspicions and defenses, interacting like an ordinary couple with genuine feelings.
Nelson pulled her into his arms, sitting her on his lap, burying his face in her neck. The familiar scent calmed him, giving him a sense of belonging.
He reassured her, “I’m fine, just a common cold.”
Callie stirred the soup to cool it down. “Yes, Ben told me.”
The man buried in her shoulder mumbled, “Still angry?”
Callie scooped a spoonful and gestured for him to drink. He smiled childishly and took a sip. “Mrs. Oconnor is the most considerate.”
Hearing this title made Callie’s hand tremble slightly before she lowered her eyes.
“How could I be angry with Mr. Oconnor? It’s just a child; it’s okay if we don’t have one.”
Nelson held her hand seriously. “That’s not what I meant.”
Callie pretended indifference. “It’s fine, I understand.”
She fed him spoonful by spoonful like feeding a child, adding warmth to the moment.
After finishing the soup, Nelson played with her fingers silently as sleepiness overcame him.
Callie changed the subject to last night’s events. “Thank you for helping find Regan. She’s safely back with the Ellison family.”
“She’s too impulsive and headstrong,” Nelson commented. “Hurting herself for others is too naive.”
Callie countered, “Maybe she was too sad and had no other way. Pain displacement?”
Nelson was silent for a moment before finding her waist and touching the thorn tattoo there. He pressed lightly, making her hum softly.
“Does it still hurt?”
“No.”
Callie’s dark eyes were unfathomable. For a moment, even Nelson, who could easily read others’ minds, couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
Just then, Ben opened the door, assuming Nelson had finished his IV drip.