Dangerous Love: You Are My One and Only Bride novel Chapter 1879

There was something infectious about Cynthia’s smile that made Aristotle’s lips quiver on his own. “Please, I’m only tolerating your noise because it’s you. If it were literally anyone else—well, I’d make sure they don't croak at all when I’m around. Come on.”

They returned to the Tremont Estate, and from there, Cynthia got into her car and drove away.

Aristotle stood by the door. He watched the car vanish into the distance before turning back into the house.

He was not the only audience, however, for another figure had been peering from the window upstairs, watching.

“Had she taken her lunch, Agnes?” Aristotle asked his housekeeper.

Agnes shot a helpless glance in the direction of the room upstairs.

“Uh, she hasn’t. Miss Leigh informed me she’s feeling unwell today, and hadn’t gotten the appetite. Really, the only meal she had today up until now is… well, a bowl of oatmeal she didn’t even finish,” the woman replied. “Um… She looks really pallid, Master Tremont. Could she have come down with some sorta sickness? I think it’s best if you take her to the hospital for some body checkups.”

Aristotle answered nothing. He already knew what malaised Raven Leigh—or, rather, he knew enough that it was not simply the sort that could be fixed with a single trip to the hospital.

He ascended the stairs to Raven’s room and stood outside the door. Then, he knocked as lightly as a feather.

“Is there anything you want for lunch?” he asked through the door. “If your coughs have gotten worse, please let me take you to the hospital.”

A feeble voice escaped through the door to answer him. “O-oh! I’m alright... Cough, cough! I don’t need to see a doctor, really… Cough, cough. But I… I would really appreciate it if you could—cough—have a chat with me for a bit? Sorry, but it’s pretty boring being all alone.”

He hesitated for about two seconds before pushing the door open. After taking a seat on a chair set the farthest away from bed, he began, “What’s the topic?”

Before Raven could say anything more, Aristotle had spun on his heels and strode away. He did not even dole out a look.

Raven grabbed her nearest pillow and punched it, her force fueled by frustration. He was so close right now—literally right before her eyes—and yet, he never once opened a crack on that stupid wall he built around his heart and showed her its content. Hell, from the way he had acted, Raven wondered if he thought a friendly, two-way conversation between the two of them was an undeserved luxury on her part…

No! The road to realize her goal—her dream—was still beyond her reach!

Dusk fell. Aristotle was prepared for the journey to White Water Bay Villa when Raven was suddenly seized by an even more severe fit of coughs.

She had been sputtering for the entire day that by the evening, Agnes simply could not bear to hear it anymore. “Master Tremont, I really think you should bring Miss Leigh to the hospital,” she implored. “I really think her coughs imply something more than the usual ones we know.”

Aristotle listened to the barrage of coughs echoing through the first floor and paused for a moment. “No. She suffers from congenital lung malformation, Agnes. Combining that with the stab wound she sustained, and there’s the malady you witness. It’s not a problem a trip to the doctor will solve. At most, she can only get her symptoms slightly relieved,” he replied. “You watch her and make sure she eats adequately and takes her meds afterward. If she remains coughing like that after an hour despite the medicine, then get someone to send her to the hospital. As for me, though, I personally have my own business to take care of.”