The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 143

Laura hadn’t seen Franco in three days, not since he’d left her with those words on Saturday night.

She tried to ask him to dinner that evening, hoping maybe things could go back to normal, but Franco just texted back that he was busy. She ended up sitting alone in the dining room, staring at her untouched food, feeling more and more lost as the minutes dragged by.

It was late when her caretaker started to wheel her upstairs. Just outside the elevator, Laura blacked out, hitting the floor before anyone could catch her.

By the time they got her to the hospital, she was awake again, but everything was hazy. The doctors moved her into a room that reeked of antiseptic. When a needle slid into the crook of her arm, she finally blinked, half turning her head to watch blood fill the tube.

She frowned, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you taking blood?”

“Mr. White asked us to,” the nurse said, gentle and patient. “He wants to check if your anemia is getting any better.”

So it was Franco’s idea after all.

Laura’s lips curled into the faintest smile.

He still cared, even if he was mad at her.

All she’d done was send a message to Petty that night, just a little trick to get Franco’s attention. Of course he’d be annoyed—no one likes being confronted like that in front of other people. It made sense that he’d need time to cool off.

Now, three days later, his anger seemed to have faded. If something happened to her, he still showed up. That was just how he was.

“Where is he, then?” Laura glanced around the room.

The nurse pulled out the needle and pressed a cotton ball to her arm. “He’s outside.”

The nurse left and someone else stepped into the room. Laura’s vision blurred and for a second, she thought it was Franco—tall, straight-backed, that familiar silhouette. She felt her heart leap and tried to smile, her lips pale and shaky. “You’re here… so late?”

But when her eyes focused, it wasn’t Franco. It was Jay.

Franco and Jay looked a little alike, both tall and serious, but Jay had a bigger, tougher build from his years as a mercenary. In her daze, Laura had just hoped it was Franco.

Jay stood at her bedside, expression blank. “Mr. White is with the doctor. Are you feeling any other discomfort, Miss Laura?”

Laura turned away, making it clear she wasn’t in the mood to talk to Jay.

More time passed, but Franco still didn’t come in. Finally, Laura spoke to her caretaker. “I’m feeling better. Help me up.”

The caretaker helped her sit up slowly.

“Bring me my wheelchair,” she told Jay.

Jay’s eyes got colder. “Mr. White wants you to rest.”

“I said I feel better. I don’t need to lie down anymore. Didn’t you hear me?” Laura’s tone was sharp, her patience gone.

Jay didn’t move. “Miss Laura, Mr. White is only thinking of your health.”

But Franco still hadn’t said anything about her moving into Misty Vale.

Instead of sitting, Franco handed her a small bag with two boxes inside.

Laura blinked in surprise, opening the bag to find two boxes of iron supplements.

Franco’s cool voice drifted down to her. “Remember to take these on time when you’re back home. You still have two more boxes you haven’t opened. Finish all of them, then come back for a checkup. Your anemia should be better by then.”

Laura’s face went even paler. She clutched the boxes, trying to explain. “Franco, I just forgot to take them…”

“Only you know if you forgot or if you did it on purpose.” Franco’s tone was calm, almost distant.

Her heart squeezed tight. She really had skipped her medicine on purpose, wanting him to worry, to show her he cared. Whenever she complained about not having an appetite, he would always eat with her.

Franco turned to the caretaker. “From now on, remind Laura at every meal. If things aren’t better in a month, you can pack your bags and go.”

The caretaker nodded, hands trembling. “Yes, Mr. White.”

Franco always seemed cold and distant, but he rarely used that kind of voice with the staff. He must really be angry this time.

Laura bit her lip, stealing a glance at Franco’s long, elegant fingers hanging at his side.

He said all these things were for her own good. So why did it still feel so cold, so empty, like she was alone in all of this?