My Son Hated My Hugs, Then Cried Over My Cold Body

He scrubbed himself spotless afterward, as if I were some filthy contaminant he had to wash off.

Yet with Felicity Fox, his obsession with cleanliness never once kicked in.

He could hold her without a second thought, press close to soothe her,

let her lean against him with not a flicker of distaste.

I had meant to turn quietly back to my room, to not disturb their cozy little scene.

But Felicity saw me first. The smile vanished instantly, replaced by a wounded, fragile expression as she hurried toward me.

"Belinda, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault, my body's just too weak. I got into the accident and took the only emergency slot too."

Her eyes reddened, and she pressed the point on purpose.

"Nathan and John were just so worried about my health that they insisted on staying with me. Please don't be angry."

That two-faced little act turned my stomach.

I didn't even have it in me to humor her with a reply. I only looked at her, blank.

At her side, John immediately planted himself in front of her, his voice soft and childish as he comforted her.

"Aunt Felicity already has a bad heart. It's not her fault. Mommy shouldn't blame her."

Even the nurse who'd come with me couldn't stomach it, and spoke up for me.

"You're her husband? Fine, any other time, whatever. But right now Dr. Pruitt's under observation in the ICU and you're still circling another woman? Don't you think that's going too far?"

Only then did Nathan snap out of it, a flicker of shock crossing his face as he looked at me.

"You're in the ICU? Why didn't you tell me?"

Tell you?

I laughed. As if he ever had time to listen.

Just then the attending physician from the department walked over, his expression grave.

"The injuries are critical. We need a family member to sign off on a second surgery."

But I only spoke quietly, my tone distant and calm.

"I have no family. I'm single. I'll sign it myself."

I took the form.

Nathan and I had never legally married, after all.

——The day we'd agreed to get our marriage license, Felicity happened to fall into the water. He rushed off to save her without a backward glance, and afterward brushed it aside with a careless, "The formality doesn't matter."

I'd believed it, foolish, for all these years. Looking back now, the truth was simple: he had never once intended to give me a title.

Nathan's face darkened slightly, and on reflex he reached to take the chart from my hand.

But the moment his fingertips brushed mine, his mysophobia flared. His fingers curled back on instinct, and he hesitated, then withdrew his hand.

I caught the small motion, every bit of it, and gave a soft laugh, my eyes gone cold.

"If it disgusts you, don't force yourself."

The old me would only have clung to him, wheedling,

clawing on even when he found me repulsive.

Nathan froze where he stood, watching the distance in my eyes, an inexplicable agitation rising in his chest.

He was about to say something

when Felicity suddenly clutched her stomach, her face going pale, her brow knotting with pain.

She sagged weakly against him. "Nathan, my stomach hurts so much all of a sudden……"

Every ounce of his attention snapped to her, every reservation flung aside as he hurried to steady her,

his face all tenderness. "Don't be scared. I'll take you to get checked."

He turned and glanced at me in a rush, leaving behind one perfunctory promise.

"Get some rest. I'll come back to see you later."

And with that he wrapped an arm around Felicity and turned to leave, holding his son's hand, without a trace of reluctance.

I stood where I was, watching their backs recede, and felt nothing at all.

Before long, the nurse came in to change my dressing, and in the small talk she couldn't help marveling.

"Room A201 is just so romantic. It's filled with 999 red roses."

Something stirred in me. A201, that was Felicity's room.

——He once told me that women loving flowers was nothing but a waste.