No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

Chapter 194

Ever since my parents passed away, I never complained about the bitterness of medicine again. Without them, there was no more rock sugar to sweeten the deal for me. I hadn't tasted rock sugar since.

"It's really sweet," Ernest whispered, lifting a piece of rock sugar to my lips as if to tempt me.

Reluctantly, I opened my mouth, but as the sugar touched my tongue, tears welled up in my eyes and spilled over.

"Why are you crying now?" He cleaned my tears with his hands.

His words only made my heart heavier, my tears harder to stop.

Ernest couldn't keep up, eventually taking the glass from my hand and squeezing my hand gently, "If the medicine's too bitter, we'll skip it."

He walked away, and I buried my face in my palms...

After crying for a while, I felt much better. The thermometer tucked under my arm beeped, signaling it was done.

I checked it: 101.2°F. Definitely a fever.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

Ernest reappeared, holding a towel, seemingly wrapping something inside.

"Let's use some ice to cool you down first, then you should drink some warm water. If your temperature drops, we won't bother with the medicine," Ernest said, supporting my legs to lie me down on the couch.

He placed the towel with ice on my forehead, his voice soft, "Close your eyes and rest a bit."

I did as told, but soon I heard the flick of a lighter, followed by the smell of alcohol burning in the air.

Then, a warmth spread in my palm; Ernest was rubbing my hand, a sudden heat that made me flinch. "I'm using alcohol to bring down your fever."

I knew this method; my dad had used it on me when I was a kid.

It was a bit frightening, having to rub your hands together with flaming alcohol.

I stayed still as he rubbed my left hand, then my right. Just when I thought he was done, he wrapped his hands around my feet.

I instinctively pulled away, refusing, "No need."

"You're usually so brave, even ready

to strip me down, and now Me

of me touching your feet?"

3's words caught me off guard.

I felt like just shutting down, tuning everything out. Yet, his words made it clear: he remembered everything just as vividly as I did.

Silence seemed the best option then, so I closed my eyes, ignoring him.

His hands rubbing the soles of my feet felt ticklish, a warmth that pierced straight to my heart.

Today, Ernest brought back the

times when my parents were stil around warming my heart yet filling it with sadness, drawing tears down my cheeks again.

-Π

"Sleep for a bit. I made some porridge. Have some when you wake up," Ernest said, getting up to leave.

"Ernest," I looked at his retreating figure, "Did you know me before?"

Today he had brought back so many memories of my childhood; he was like the family I once had, caring for me in the shadow of my parents. He paused, seemingly replying, but I couldn't make it out.

I fell asleep, dreaming of my parents holding my hands, coaxing me to take medicine, offering me rock sugar, rubbing warmth into my

palms and feet.

"Dad, Mom..." I murmured, reaching out for them.

"Licia, time to eat," Ernest's voice brought me back.

In the dream, I didn't want to wake up, holding onto my parents' hands tighter, "Don't leave me, don't leave Licia..."

"I'll always be here for you," Ernest's voice again interrupted.

At that moment, I found it so irritating. I just wanted to talk to my parents, and he kept interrupting.

"Ernest, go away," I snapped, waking up.

I was holding onto Ernest's hand tightly, his dark eyes locked on mine. In that moment, I saw the pain in his eyes...