172 Why is there no divorce_3

Gem Atkinson sat quietly on the sofa, motionless, watching the person lying on the hospital bed. The room was silent for a moment.

Soon, Gem noticed Forsythia Brown's fingers twitching and her brows seemingly furrowed.

He quickly walked a few steps to the bedside, reaching out to hold Forsythia's hand, "Viola."

"Water," Forsythia croaked.

Gem hastily grabbed the cup with a straw nearby and brought it to her lips.

Forsythia sipped on the straw a few times, feeling her throat more comfortable and finally gaining some energy. Her body seemed to regain strength as well. She exhaled a long breath, lying on the bed, saying, "It's been two days!" Though she was still a bit dazed and groggy, she was aware.

"Yeah."

"I finally made it through."

Gem leaned on the bedside, cradling her in his arms. Seeing her complexion clearly better than two days ago, he knew she was okay. Still worried, he asked, "Are you feeling more comfortable now?"

"Much better than before," Forsythia replied.