Chapter 71: The Blunt Caregiver

Raylee stood in stark contrast to Casimir, who maintained a serious and reserved demeanor beside her. She recalled his two confessions, a trace of affection involuntarily stirring in her heart. Raylee fiercely shook her head, dismissing the impractical thoughts. Casimir was Waverly’s fiancé; regardless of his motivations, a future between them was impossible.

“Raylee?” Casimir looked up, surprise and joy briefly illuminating his usually expressionless face. Raylee, unsure if she was mistaken, nodded and continued toward her grandmother’s room. Casimir quickly caught up, his concern evident. “I heard you fell. How are you feeling?”

Seeing Casimir’s worried face and his hand on Raylee’s left a bitter taste in Waverly’s mouth. Yet, feigning magnanimity, she said, “Raylee, you must be feeling much better if you can go upstairs alone.”

“Thanks for your concern, Mr. Sutherland,” Raylee said, gently disengaging his hand and turning to Waverly. “My injuries are mostly healed. How about yours?”

Waverly, fearing she would reveal her alopecia areata, trembled. Her hands twisted, her face pale. Raylee laughed. “Why are you so nervous? I’m talking about your depression. I heard it’s severe, leading to suicidal thoughts. Mr. Sutherland has a friend, Percival Siapiro, a medical expert. Should we ask him to recommend a psychiatrist?”

“No need,” Waverly stammered, shaking her head. “I’ve already seen a doctor.”

“Don’t be shy,” Raylee scoffed. “Percival has a wide network; he can find a good doctor!”

Waverly anxiously glanced at Casimir, fearing he’d use her depression as a reason to end their engagement. She quickly changed the subject. “Thank you, Raylee, but I’m fine. You seem to hold Dr. Shapiro in high regard. I heard he rescued you from the psychiatric hospital.”

Ignoring her, Raylee turned to Casimir. “I owe Percival a huge favor. Could you ask him when he’s free? I’d like to invite him for a meal.”

“You’re pretty grateful, but I think you’ve got the wrong person to thank,” Casimir replied, a sour tone and intriguing upward lilt in his voice. “I sent Percival to treat your wounds. His intervention saved your life. So, why haven’t I been invited to dinner?”

Waverly’s brow furrowed. “Casimir, how about I treat you to a meal? There’s a new private kitchen…”

Raylee casually glanced at Waverly. “Yes, if you want to dine, you should do so with your fiancé. What’s it to me?” She proceeded upstairs to her grandmother, Vera’s, room.

Vera was unconscious, the caregiver dozing. Seeing Raylee, the caregiver rushed over. “Ms. Goodridge! And who is this gentleman?” she asked, looking at Casimir.

“He’s my fiancé,” Waverly smiled. “He had some free time.”

“I see,” the caregiver replied. “Come in. Ms. Goodridge will care for Mrs. Goodridge. I feel a little embarrassed.”

Waverly’s heart swelled. Turning to Casimir, she said modestly, “This is my grandmother. It’s my duty.”

Relief filled Casimir’s eyes. “Waverly, you’ve worked hard.”

“Um… the Ms. Goodridge I meant is this lady!” The caregiver pointed to Raylee. “I’ve only met her once or twice.”

Waverly wished the earth would swallow her. She glared at the caregiver. This idiot!

The caregiver, unfazed, noticed the glare. “Ms. Goodridge, did I say something wrong?”

Casimir frowned, heading toward Vera’s bed. Raylee was already cleaning a towel and gently wiping Vera’s face.