Chapter 190

Recalling my earlier words, my breath hitched. I wanted to explain, perhaps apologize, but Hayden, rising from his kneeling position beside the couch, anticipated me. "Dinner's ready. Come eat."

As he withdrew his hand, I realized how tightly I'd been gripping him. In my dream, I'd thought I was clinging to my parents—but it had been Hayden all along. And I'd cursed him, believing he was an obstacle.

I awkwardly released him. His arm rose, revealing deep red marks where I'd squeezed too hard.

Without speaking, he turned and left. I slowly sat up, feeling clammy and uncomfortable. I'd definitely worked up a sweat—likely a sign the fever had broken.

"Here, put this on. Don't catch another cold," Hayden said, returning with a blanket.

I reached for it, but my grip remained weak, and I nearly dropped it. He draped it over me, then offered a warm, damp cloth to wipe my hands.

For a moment, I felt like a child again—sick, vulnerable, receiving the care my parents had given me.

"Can you manage eating on your own?" Hayden asked, placing a bowl of fragrant pumpkin soup before me.

Was he offering to feed me? If he were my boyfriend, I wouldn't hesitate, but he wasn't. And the embarrassment of my drunken confession lingered.

I nodded, attempting to prove my ability by picking up the spoon, but my hand trembled, the spoon wobbling.

Hayden gently covered my hand with his. "Take your time."

"I think I'd rather drink some water first," I said, suddenly aware of my dehydration.

He seemed to anticipate this, handing me a glass of water silently. I drank it in one gulp, pleasantly surprised by its perfect temperature and subtle hint of honey.

I felt touched, though "thank you" seemed inadequate for his kindness.

Hayden's dinner was simple yet perfect: garlic butter shrimp, fried cabbage, lemon-honey pork ribs, and cucumber salad. All my favorites.

"Hayden, have you been spying on me?" I asked, unable to resist as I savored another bite.

He glanced at me. "What's there to investigate? Your taste in food?"

Slightly embarrassed, I continued. "But everything you've given me, even the candy, feels like something only someone close to me would know."

Hayden paused mid-bite, his spoon hovering. Then, he casually remarked, "This is what any good boyfriend would do."

Boyfriend? Didn't I already tell him we were over? Had he not taken me seriously?

But with the delicious food and the memory of his care, I chose not to spoil the moment with difficult conversation. I remained quiet, focusing on my meal.

"Did something happen?" Hayden asked as I finished my plate.

I bit down on my fork, unsure how to respond. So much had happened; I didn't know where to begin.

When I remained silent, he didn't press. He simply said, "Next time you're sick, tell someone. Don't try to tough it out. A fever like that can become serious—you should know better."

"I didn't know I had a fever," I admitted. Honestly, I'd only felt exhausted. I'd fallen asleep, drifting in and out, but hadn't realized it was a fever.

Thinking about it now, I was fortunate he'd checked on me. Who knows what might have happened otherwise?

"Next time, if you feel even a little unwell, call me," Hayden said, his tone firm—not a suggestion, but a command.

I bit my lip. "Okay."