Chapter 2

Two hours later, Fintan appeared in the hospital room carrying a food container.

"This congee smells delicious, miss. Your boyfriend really isn't..."

When the container was opened, it was mostly broth with a few grains of rice and a single strand of chicken floating on top.

The nurse's mouth twitched, looking at Fintan with an expression that spoke volumes.

Fintan's face turned bright red as he stammered an explanation:

"I-I didn't know it would be like this. Callie just said she didn’t have enough and wanted to pour some over to eat, I thought it was only going to be a bit."

Of course, no matter what, Callie was always the most important.

I ignored him and extended my arm for the nurse to insert the IV.

Fintan fidgeted, looking left and right, until he noticed the takeout bag placed nearby.

He let out a sigh of relief and spoke with a slightly reproachful tone:

"Why did you order takeout? Is the food from outside even clean?"

I furrowed my brow in irritation: "At least it's more nutritious than broth."

Fintan's expression changed, and he was about to lose his temper, but after glancing at the bandage on my forehead, he held back.

"Keep an eye on the IV drip. When it's almost finished, press the call button for me," the nurse instructed Fintan.

"No need, I can watch it myself."

"This medication drips slowly, and it tends to make people drowsy."

"Don't worry, I've got it under control."Fintan agreed repeatedly, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching me.

I had no strength left in my body and didn't want to argue with him, so I closed my eyes, ignoring his expression that seemed to be on the verge of saying something.

The effect of the medication made me fall asleep at some point, until the pain in the back of my hand woke me up.

My hand had clotted, causing a vascular spasm. The pain shot through my veins straight to my brain, making me retch uncontrollably.

Suddenly, a figure in white appeared, removing the needle from the back of my hand and urgently asking me questions.

It was Quint, Callie's brother.

Three months ago, in the early hours of the morning, I was admitted to the hospital with acute appendicitis. Quint was the doctor on duty at the time.

Halfway through my surgery, Callie, who was hospitalized for uremia, suddenly started screaming and was also rushed into the operating room.

After that surgery, Callie remained very weak, and Fintan always felt it was because I had delayed Callie's treatment.

Fintan appeared after I had calmed down. Faced with the nurse's accusations, he kept apologizing with his head bowed. Eventually, Quint asked the nurse to leave.

Fintan sheepishly moved to the bedside. I didn't ask where he'd been; there was no need.

He fussed over me, asking if I was cold or uncomfortable, but I suddenly felt so tired - tired to the point where I didn't want my brain to react to anything he was saying.

"Fintan, let's break up."

I always thought saying those words would be difficult, but it wasn't. At this moment, I felt an unprecedented lightness in my heart.

A guilty expression still hung on his chiseled face, mixed with a touch of disbelief, which made him look particularly comical.

He sprang to his feet, his voice suppressed:

"Is playing hard to get fun for you? Don't try to scare me with talk of breaking up. This time, even if you apologize, I won't forgive you."

Watching his furious back as he stormed off, I suddenly realized that for the past seven years, I had always been staring at Fintan's back.

I met Fintan at his father's funeral.

Fintan's father had been deceived by a friend, not only losing everything he had worked for over the years but also ending up in significant debt. Unable to cope, he chose to end his life by jumping from a building.

After the funeral, Fintan approached me, his eyes red, thanking me for allowing his father to depart with dignity.

Later, I encountered him working part-time at a coffee shop. He smiled brightly, without a trace of gloom surrounding him.

We gradually became close. He was always cheering himself up, reassuring himself that everything would pass. He even comforted and helped me when I faced difficulties.

That is, until debt collectors showed up at the coffee shop, threatening to make a scene at Fintan's school if the money wasn't repaid.

That was the first time I saw Fintan cry. He stood there, isolated and helpless, as if he would be dragged into darkness at any moment.

I chose to lend him a hand. I sold the apartment I had bought with the money my parents left me and gave all my savings to Fintan.

Fintan, choked with sobs, promised to give me a home.

My best friend scolded me for being blinded by lust, and even when I denied it, she thought I was just being stubborn.

But I really wasn't. I just didn't want to see the sun pulled down. Having been caught in the rain myself, I wanted to hold an umbrella for someone else.

So when Fintan became successful and confessed his feelings to me, I refused. I knew my job was unusual, something many people avoid. I thought he would eventually come to resent me for it.

But he tenderly kissed my fingertips, his eyes full of warmth:

"Your hands help all kinds of people every day. How could I ever resent that?"