A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

Matilda felt a sharp pang in her chest and mustered a pale smile at him. “I appreciate your concern, Mr. Boyd, but I can handle my own matters. If you’re not busy, please feel free to go about your day.”

Her words were a clear dismissal.

Yvan’s smile twisted with anger. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, Matilda.”

He, Yvan, a man of importance, had never concerned himself with a sick woman before. This was a first, and she had the nerve to send him away?

Matilda returned his gaze with a sarcastic smirk. “I’m hardly on my deathbed with a cold, Mr. Busybody. We have nothing to do with each other anymore. If you’re here to have a laugh at my expense, then by all means, have your laugh and be on your way.”

Seething with nowhere to channel his fury, Yvan retorted, “I just came to see how pitiful you are on your own. There’s nothing here worth my time.”

With that, he stormed toward the door.

Matilda, sitting on the hospital bed, clenched the sheets tight and let out a self–mocking laugh, thinking. “Yvan, don’t pretend to care now. You never considered my feelings when you hurt me before. Now

you’re all concern and care? What a joke!”

After Yvan left, Matilda sent a text to Chloe, who didn’t reply. Considering Declan’s menacing demeanor the night before, Matilda decided not to press her friend to keep her company. After two hours of IV treatment, she got up, went through the discharge process, and bumped into the same doctor on her way out.

The doctor was accompanied by the man she’d bumped into outside the bar last night.

The man with sandy blond hair turned to look at her, gave a whistle, and dressed to the nines; he winked at her with a mischievous tone. “Hey, Miss… wait a minute, I don’t even know your name.”

Chase’s brother rolled his eyes in disdain. “She was my patient this afternoon. Came in with a fever nearly hitting a hundred and four.”

The blond man’s response was identical to his initial reaction, “Damn!”

Noticing the band–aid on Matilda’s hand, he approached her and said, “You’ll need to come back for a couple more days. Remember to take your medication tonight.”

Matilda simply thanked him.

He added, “No need for thanks. But hey, five years, and you’re all by yourself?”

For some reason, Matilda felt a sudden sting at her nose. “Who else would be with me?”

The conversation fell silent, and with pursed lips, it was the blond man who stepped forward,

10.55

patting Matilda’s shoulder. “So, you and Dr. Keaton go way back?”

Matilda nodded, ready to leave.

But he called after her, “Hey… you still haven’t told me your name.”

Matilda had come to feel that even mentioning her own name was a disgrace.

The Matilda of five years ago was not the same person she was now. The name that once carried nobility was now steeped in shame.

But as she stepped outside, she froze.

Greeted by the cool evening breeze, a servant of the Boyd family approached her with a respectful bow. “Ms. Thompson, Mr. Boyd would like to see you.”

How long had it been?

Was Yvan waiting for her? C0ntent © 2024 (N/ô)velDrama.Org.

Matilda’s hands clenched, the needle marks beginning to bleed again. She struggled to maintain her composure. “No need. I’m not familiar with Mr. Boyd.”

“Mr. Boyd mentioned your illness to the young master. He’s in the car right now and would like to see you.”