Chapter 729: Don’t You Not Love Me?

Chapter 729: Chapter 729: Don’t You Not Love Me?

Seeing the Young Madam so worried yet stubbornly refusing to go, the butler assumed she was just too proud.

He then walked up to Annabelle, offering her an out. "Young Madam, please just go check on the master. How about I tell him later that I was the one who begged you to go?"

When Annabelle heard this, she looked at the butler.

’That might actually work.’

Annabelle frowned, considering the consequences. Seeing that she was wavering, the butler pressed on, "Young Madam, please go see him. He’s probably asleep right now, so he won’t know anything. When he wakes up, I’ll make sure to tell him I was the one who begged you, all right? Please go. The master truly does love you. Don’t take a little argument between you two to heart. He almost certainly regrets it by now—he’s just too proud to show it."

Annabelle suddenly felt a pang of guilt. Her heart ached even more, especially when she heard the butler say, "The master truly does love you."

’The butler’s right,’ she thought. ’Leona is probably asleep now... he’s likely not fully conscious.’

Clinging to that sliver of hope, Annabelle went upstairs.

In the bedroom, Leona was already asleep. His face was pale, his eyes were shut, and his brow was furrowed in pain.

Annabelle felt his forehead. It was burning up.

She quickly gave him an injection.

Leona felt a sharp sting and opened his eyes. His mind was hazy, and all he could see was Annabelle’s back as she busied herself with something.

"Annabelle... Annabelle..."

Annabelle froze. She walked over to him, and just as she was trying to figure out what to say, he pulled her into a sudden embrace.

Her face was pressed against his firm chest, and it hurt.

Annabelle looked up at him to find he had already fallen asleep again. Still holding her, he mumbled unconsciously, "Don’t go... I feel awful... Hold me..."

Annabelle watched him, and only after making sure he was truly unconscious did she free a hand to gently brush his hair.

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. Once he was sound asleep, Annabelle went downstairs again to make some honey water, which she carefully helped him drink to soothe his throat.

In the afternoon, she started another IV drip for him and sat by his bed, keeping watch.

When Leona woke up, Annabelle was in the middle of wiping his body down with a damp towel.

His whole body was clammy with sweat. ’He’s so particular about being clean,’ she thought, ’he must be feeling miserable.’

Leona watched as she kept her head down, carefully wiping his hand and then tucking the blanket around him. He couldn’t quite process the scene.

Just as Annabelle was about to wipe his other hand, Leona suddenly seized her wrist. "What do you think you’re doing?" he demanded, his voice sharp.

The abruptness of his action and the sharpness in his voice made Annabelle jump.

She looked up and saw him frowning, his expression a mixture of confusion and something more complex. ’This is bad,’ she thought.

’I just can’t help myself when he’s sick.’

Annabelle pulled her hand back and said coolly, "You’re sick."

"So what are you doing here?" Leona shot up, knocking over the IV pole beside him. The needle tore from his hand, leaving a deep, bloody gash on its back.

Annabelle’s pupils constricted, and she had to fight the urge to rush over to him.

Leona didn’t miss the flicker of concern in her eyes. He pressed her aggressively, "Annabelle, I’m asking you what you’re doing. You don’t love me, right? If you don’t, then you should just let me die. That way, no one will be here to pester you anymore, will they?"

"..."

"Say something! Let’s see how long you can keep up this act!"

Annabelle looked at him, her own eyes turning cold. "You’re sick, and I’m a doctor. I can hardly let someone die right in front of me, can I? It’s just professional ethics."

Leona’s gaze was piercing. "Just professional ethics?"