Chapter 241: An Agreement to a Non-Sexual Marriage
“Come on! Just a little backflow of blood. Do you need to exaggerate so much?” Susan muttered. Even without a firm stance, easy admission wasn't an option. Of course, she had to talk back.
“Thank goodness! Manuel must be blessed this time. If air enters his vein, it could cause an embolism. That could kill him,” Justine said severely. She successfully scared Susan, who hadn't anticipated such a serious consequence from a simple IV drip.
“Mum, no more scaring,” Manuel intervened, protecting his fiancée. “Generally speaking, pressure inside the vein keeps it filled with blood. I was lying down when I received the drip, so my veins were full, eliminating any chance of air entering, let alone it being fatal. That's just theoretical, not realistic.”
Justine felt helpless, unsure what had aroused Susan's guilt. Susan, easily swayed, had initially been scared by Justine but was now convinced by Manuel. Though convinced, she remained bewildered by their conversation, feeling utterly ignorant. What were they talking about?
“More than that, I sent her to bed,” Manuel added. “I intended to manage the IV myself, but I fell asleep. It's not her fault, so stop blaming her.”
“No matter what, you always back her!” Justine conceded, unable to argue further. Susan, pursing her lips, agreed that Manuel was always her staunch supporter.
“The party’s ready. You can dress and go downstairs.”
“Okay,” Manuel nodded.
Before leaving, Justine turned back to Susan and threatened, “I don’t want this to happen again!” The threat felt irritating and unjust to Susan. Ever since Justine married her father, Susan had bullied her. When had their roles reversed? She now questioned her encouragement of their divorce. This old woman was clearly different. Feeling irritated, she swallowed her resentment.
“Susan, it’s over,” Manuel said, reminding her to release his hand. She did, realizing he didn't deserve her anger. She noticed a large bruise on the back of his hand, looking quite painful.
Manuel saw her gaze. “That doesn’t hurt,” he reassured her.
Biting her lip, she remained silent.
“Susan, give me a hand, please,” Manuel continued calmly. He always managed harmony with her, despite her anger and his awareness of her dislike.
Susan almost refused but changed her mind at the sight of the bruise. She bent down to help him, surprised by his weight. She’d thought him all bone, but considering his height—he was as tall as a lamppost—even his bones might weigh over a hundred kilograms.
Seeing Susan straining and fearing Manuel might fall, the doctor rushed to assist. Finally, Manuel was safely transferred to his wheelchair.
“Let’s go, Susie,” he invited.
“Please call me Ms. Susan Phillips,” Susan snapped, irritated by the familiar term. She chafed at showing him any kindness, however small.
“Ms. Susan Phillips,” Manuel complied, though it sounded awkward. Perhaps she would get used to it. 'Susie' felt too intimate.
She pushed him to the dining hall. It was a small, intimate gathering; dinner was the sole agenda, with guests departing afterward. Passing the head table, she reached Oscar and Hannah. They had just arrived.
“Hannah, that cocktail dress isn't the one I saw you in, is it?” Susan exclaimed. Her sharp eyes surprised her friend. The dress she'd ordered was almost identical to the one Hannah wore earlier, but with subtle differences that Susan instantly noticed.
“Well, girl, tell me what happened this afternoon?” Susan teased.
“Well, the food looks delicious; just enjoy it,” Hannah replied, flushing slightly.
Susan smiled meaningfully, her teasing leaving Hannah flustered and speechless. How could you act like you know everything when you don't? I'm still a virgin, she thought, but kept her thoughts to herself; honor demanded silence.
It was a pleasant, if slightly awkward, dinner. Susan adeptly diffused any embarrassment.
“Well, Oscar, Hannah has perfectly functional hands. Why are you treating her like a handicapped person?” Susan questioned Oscar’s excessive attentiveness. Oscar Wells, rumored to be fickle, with numerous short-lived affairs (none lasting over three months), seemed unusually attentive to Hannah. Was he truly in love? If not, why act so devoted?
“She had a long day,” Oscar offered smoothly, providing an excuse before Hannah could respond.
“Meaning she’s too tired to lift her fork?” Susan sniffed.
Oscar unexpectedly set down his utensils, taking Hannah's hand and kissing her palm. Susan felt a chill at the scene. Hannah seemed momentarily stunned. Was something wrong with him?
“Honey, you must be exhausted,” Oscar said with a suggestive smile.
Susan shivered at the smile. “That’s enough! What could a hand possibly be exhausted from?” she exclaimed. Suddenly understanding his meaning, she stared at Hannah, whose face was crimson.
“You'll learn tonight,” Oscar stated confidently.
Hannah withdrew her hand from his.
“What kind of horror story are you talking about? I won't let it happen!” Susan shouted, momentarily forgetting Manuel. He paused his meal but quickly resumed.
“Susan,” Hannah interrupted, “It’s too early for judgments. Don’t jump to conclusions. Now eat something and get home early.”
Susan fell silent, annoyed that Hannah always sided with Manuel. After all, she wasn't obligating herself to sleep with him; her approval of the marriage didn't entail that.