Chapter 21

In the ward, Melody lay on her stomach, practicing sketches on a digital tablet to train her hand. Her phone rang; she glanced at it before tossing it aside.

The call ended after forty seconds. She anticipated the caller would stop, but another call came through immediately, followed by a third, then a fourth. The relentless persistence was reminiscent of the hundred missed calls from that morning.

She couldn’t understand why Christopher was calling now. Did he want her to come home and cook dinner? Didn’t he already know she was in the hospital? Fearing he might storm into the ward again, as he had at noon, Melody set down her stylus, took a deep breath, and picked up the phone.

She hadn’t even finished her greeting before an angry voice erupted, “Why did it take four calls for you to answer? You’d better have a good explanation.”

Melody was speechless. “Oh, so you do know it’s the fourth call. Anyone with half a brain would figure out I didn’t want to answer,” she thought. She didn’t say this aloud; she couldn’t be bothered to argue.

“I was in the bathroom,” she replied coolly.

On the other end, Christopher’s anger abated slightly. “Did a nurse help you?”

Melody rolled her eyes. What was this? Was he showing concern for her?

“No,” she answered flatly.

“Where was the nurse? Why didn’t you press the call button before going to the bathroom?” he pressed.

“What exactly are you trying to say?” Melody cut to the chase, unwilling to prolong the conversation.

There was silence on the other end for a couple of seconds. It felt like the connection might have lagged, or he simply didn’t know how to respond.

“Why are you asking me all this? Are you worried about me?” Melody deliberately countered, her tone laced with mockery to provoke him.

As expected, Christopher’s reply was instant and agitated. “Me? Worried about you? Don’t flatter yourself.”

Melody chuckled coldly, her eyes icy.

She was about to hang up when he spoke again, saying, “I just don’t want you to hurt yourself more and have Grandpa blame me later.”

“I already asked Sheldon to tell you I wouldn’t mention this to him,” she said.

Christopher almost blurted out that Sheldon hadn’t told him, but he stopped, fearing Melody might confront Sheldon. He gritted his teeth and said, “You’d better stick to that. I’m covering my bases, so don’t you suddenly turn on me!”

She laughed in exasperation and replied, “Rest assured, Mr. Fuller, I know my place and will play my part well. There will be no unnecessary drama from me.”

She only wanted peace in the remaining days of her marriage. Yet there was Christopher, projecting his own pettiness onto her.

Christopher sat in the conference room, Melody’s words echoing in his mind. They were exactly what he wanted to hear, yet they felt sharp, cutting into him and leaving him inexplicably unsettled.

“If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up,” Melody’s voice came again.

“Keep the money I sent you. I don’t want Grandpa thinking I’m negligent,” he said curtly. “Next time, speak to me directly. I don’t want to hear things from a third party,” he added coldly. With that, he ended the call. He checked his watch and noted the fashion show was almost starting. So, he stood and headed out.

“Cynthia?! When did you get here?” Christopher asked, noticing Cynthia standing nearby in the hallway.