<b>Chapter </b><b>22 </b>
“Jeffrey,” Andrea began another performance, “it was an ident earlier. She might not have meant to hurt me.”
“Whether she meant it or not, you got hurt because of her,” Jeffrey cut in, his eyes never leaving Reba’s face, watching for even the slightest reaction, “She needs to pay for it.”
Reba got it. He wasn’t here to negotiate–he was here to stand by Andrea, just like he once stood by her. Back then, no matter who was at fault, he always took her side.
Now, he was making it clear: if Reba refused to “share” him, his affection would shift to someone else. But she didn’t want that kind of love–the kind that could be so easily given to another.
“Do you mean it?” Reba asked, her voice steady.
Jeffrey nodded. “Every word.”
In one swift motion, Reba grabbed a sterile scalpel from a nearby tray and drew it sharply across her palm. The skin split open cleanly, blood welling up instantly and spilling over her hand.
“Ms. Jensen!” Timothy cried out, shocked.
Jeffrey’s eyes darkened, fixed on Reba’s bleeding hand. He thought, ‘This is the same Reba who used to tear up over the smallest scratch, clinging to me and whimpering that it hurt?
‘How can she now cut herself so deeply without even flinching? Is she really that determined to refuse my help? So willing to hurt herself just to defy
me?‘
“Is this enough?” Reba asked calmly, blood dripping steadily from her hand onto the floor. “If not, I’ll keep going until you’re satisfied.”
“Mr. Hanson, Ms. Scott’s injuries are minor–just a few scrapes,” Timothy said urgently, worried that Reba’s wound might get worse. “Ms. Jensen has paid more than enough.”
It wasn’t just ten times the blood–it was closer to fifty times what Andrea had lost.
Jeffrey’s expression darkened, his mood grim.
Just then, Andrea spoke up. “Jeffrey was only joking earlier. Why did you take it so seriously, Reba? If he really didn’t want Dr. Johnson treating your mother, he would’ve had her moved out long ago.”
“It might be a joke,” Reba replied calmly. Even as the pain in her palm intensified, she showed no sign of weakness. “It could easily cost my mom’s
life.”
Andrea nced nervously at Jeffrey.
Jeffrey wasn’t listening at all. His attention was entirely on Reba’s bleeding hand and her defiant expression–so different from the vulnerable woman
he once knew.
“Mr. Hanson,” Timothy said cautiously, “if Ms. Jensen’s wound isn’t treated soon…”
He didn’t get to finish. Jeffrey grabbed Andrea’s wrist, though his eyes remained locked on Reba’s injury, and said, “Let’s go.”
“What about Ms. Jensen’s mother?” Timothy asked quickly.
“Reba has paid her dues,” Jeffrey said coldly without looking back. “Treat her if you want.”
Timothy let out a sigh of relief. As he reached for the disinfectant and bandages, he couldn’t help but scold, “Reba, what were you thinking, cutting yourself like that? Do you have any idea how deep that is?”
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Reba stayed silent. When it came to her mother’s safety, she wasn’t taking any chances.
“This might sting. Try to hang in there,” Timothy said gently. Having known Reba for years, he was all too aware of how afraid of pain she used to be.
Reba took the bottle of hydrogen peroxide from him. “It’s fine. I can do it myself.”
Timothy watched her with concern.
Reba poured the solution directly over the wound without so much as a flinch–no gasp, no tears, as if it were nothing more than water on unbroken skin.
“I thought you were scared of pain,” Timothy remarked lightly.
He remembered how she’d twisted her ankle during dance practice once- -Jeffrey had carried her in, and she’d teared up over the smallest ache. This injury hurt far more than that, and yet she hadn’t made a sound.
“That was a long time ago,” Reba replied evenly. After disinfecting the cut, she applied ointment and began wrapping the gauze herself. “Let’s get back to my mom’s treatment n.”
Timothy could tell she was pushing through the pain. He took the gauze from her hands and finished bandaging her wound carefully. It was a simple act, but for a moment, Reba found herself quietly watching, lost in thought.
Just as Timothy finished, his phone chimed with a message from Jeffrey: [Be gentle while bandaging her. And make sure to give her the scar ointment afterward.]
[Got it,] Timothy replied.
Jeffrey didn’t respond further.
Andrea studied his unreadable expression carefully. Worried he might me her for seeking out Reba likest time, she decided to take the initiative.
“Jeffrey,” she said. “I know you don’t want me near Reba. But I couldn’t just stand by when Amelia was in trouble. If you’re upset with me, I understand.”
“Does it still hurt?” Jeffrey asked, changing the subject.
“Yeah.” Andrea nodded, her expression shifting to one of wounded vulnerability.
Jeffrey rested his broad hand gently on her knee, his eyes lingering on the bandage. Without thinking, his thumb brushed lightly over the gauze. Somehow<i>, </i>his mind was elsewhere, reying the image of Reba’s bloodied palm.
“The doctor said it’s not serious,” Andrea said, cing her hand over his. “Don’t worry.”
Jeffrey quietly withdrew his hand and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Rest well these next few days. Call me if you need anything. And keep the wound dry.”
“Aren’t youing back with me?” Andrea asked, a hint of panic in her voice.
“There are still matters to handle at the hospital and the office,” Jeffrey said calmly, his voice low. “I’lle find you when I’m done.”
A flicker of jealousy passed through Andrea’s eyes/She knew he was staying because of Reba.
“If you get bored, ask your friends to go shopping with you,” Jeffrey offered.
Andrea nodded quietly.
Jeffrey didn’t linger. After giving a few instructions to the driver, he got out of the car. Only after the vehicle disappeared from view did he turn and head back to the hospital, making his way to Timothy’s other office.
<b>1 </b>
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Reba stayed silent. When it came to her mother’s safety, she wasn’t taking any chances.
“This might sting. Try to hang in there,” Timothy said gently. Having known Reba for years, he was all too aware of how afraid of pain she used to be,
Reba took the bottle of hydrogen peroxide from him. “It’s fine. I can do it myself.”
Timothy watched her with concern.
Reba poured the solution directly over the wound without so much as a flinch–no gasp, no tears, as if it were nothing more than water on unbroken skin.
“I thought you were scared of pain,” Timothy remarked lightly.
He remembered how she’d twisted her ankle during dance practice once–Jeffrey had carried her in, and she’d teared up over the smallest ache. This injury hurt far more than that, and yet she hadn’t made a sound.
“That was a long time ago,” Reba replied evenly. After disinfecting the cut, she applied ointment and began wrapping the gauze herself. “Let’s get back to my mom’s treatment n.”
Timothy could tell she was pushing through the pain. He took the gauze from her hands and finished bandaging her wound carefully. It was a simple act, but for a moment, Reba found herself quietly watching, lost in thought.
Just as Timothy finished, his phone chimed with a message from Jeffrey: [Be gentle while bandaging her. And make sure to give her the scar ointment afterward.]
[Got it,] Timothy replied.
Jeffrey didn’t respond further.
Andrea studied his unreadable expression carefully. Worried he might me her for seeking out Reba likest time, she decided to take the initiative.
“Jeffrey,” she said. “I know you don’t want me near Reba. But I couldn’t just stand by when Amelia was in trouble. If you’re upset with me, I understand.”
“Does it still hurt?” Jeffrey asked, changing the subject.
“Yeah.” Andrea nodded, her expression shifting to one of wounded vulnerability.
Jeffrey rested his broad hand gently on her knee, his eyes lingering on the bandage. Without thinking, his thumb brushed lightly over the gauze. Somehow, his mind was elsewhere, reying the image of Reba’s bloodied palm.
“The doctor said it’s not serious,” Andrea said, cing her hand over his. “Don’t worry.”
Jeffrey quietly withdrew his hand and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Rest well these next few days. Call me if you need anything. And keep the wound dry.”
“Aren’t youing back with me?” Andrea asked, a hint of panic in her voice.
“There are still matters to handle at the hospital and the office,” Jeffrey said calmly, his voice low. “I’lle find you when I’m done.”
A flicker of jealousy passed through Andrea’s eyes She knew he was staying because of Reba.
“If you get bored, ask your friends to go shopping with you,” Jeffrey offered.
Andrea nodded quietly.
Jeffrey didn’t linger. After giving a few instructions to the driver, he got out of the car. Only after the vehicle disappeared from view did he turn and head back to the hospital, making his way to Timothy’s other office.
20:26 Sun, 14 Sept
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By then, Reba had almost finished discussing Amelia’s treatment n with Timothy. She realized she’d need to keep working hard to cover any unexpected medical expenses.
“Thank you for taking care of my mom,” Reba said politely, maintaining her usualposed tone.
Timothy replied gently, “No need to be so formal.”
Once everything was settled, Timothy handed her a tube of scar ointment and walked her out.
Just as he settled back at his desk, the office door swung open. He nced up to find Jeffrey standing in the doorway. “Mr. Hanson,” he said.
“Is the surgery n finalized?” Jeffrey asked as he walked in and took a seat. His eyes drifted toward the medical waste bin nearby, where blood–stained cotton balls and droplets of blood stood out sharply. His brow furrowed slightly.
Timothy handed him the documents. “It’s all set.”
Jeffrey took them and reviewed each page carefully. Only after confirming everything was in order did he hand it back.
Minutes passed slowly. Jeffrey remained seated, saying nothing more.
Timothy struggled with the heavy tension in the room. Gathering his courage, he asked cautiously, “Is there something wrong with the surgery n?”
“How is her hand?” Jeffrey asked. His tone was neutral, revealing nothing about whether he was concerned or just making sure Reba had suffered enough to match Andrea’s “pain.”
ZUZO Sun, 14 Sept