Book TRK
Chapter 63
Chapter 63
Gwendolyn was caught off guard by his question, rendered momentarily speechless.
She had never considered leveraging Howard’s influence, especially since the Chadwick family was tightening its grip, making life increasingly difficult for Howard.
“Gwendolyn, am I really that unimpressive?” Howard asked a hint of challenge in his Belonging to NôvelDrama.Org.
voice.
“No, Mr. Chadwick,” she replied, stumbling over her words, inexperienced in the art of soothing male egos.
The elevator dinged at the 21st floor, and Howard maneuvered his wheelchair out with unwavering determination. Gwendolyn had to jog to catch up, following him into the hospital room.
“Mr. Chadwick,” she called out, her face flushed with emotion. “How could you ever be unimpressive? I was just worried about being a burden to you.”
He turned to face her, a probing gaze meeting her earnest eyes.
“Mr. Chadwick,” Gwendolyn continued, “I’m just an ordinary girl, and you’re like something out of a storybook. Associating with me would be beneath you.”
Raised in a small town, she had never encountered such a dazzling man. To her, he was a lifeline, the kind soul who showed her the bright lights of the city beyond her humble village, a treasure she held dear.
“I don’t want people to gossip about you taking in a country girl. If our marriage is destined to end from the start, how could I let it tarnish your reputation?” Her voice was
filled with resolute strength.
Howard’s hands clenched tightly on the wheelchair.
At that moment, time seemed to stand still, the world hushed except for the thunderous beating of his heart.
“Who’s to say I’m any better?” Howard’s voice was rough with emotion, “They call me the barren cripple, and you the village girl. As they say, a match made in heaven. Who’s superior now?”
“Mr. Chadwick…” Gwendolyn looked at him, astonished.
“Gwendolyn, we’re equals,” he said, his sharp eyes softening with a rare gentleness. He sensed the deep–seated insecurity within her and it pained him.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, downcast.
“Hand me the ointment from the drawer.”
Right away. She hurried to get the ointment and handed it to him. Howard opened It. squeezing out a ribbon of white cream, looking up at her.
“Extend your hands.” he commanded.
Gwendolyn did as she was told, revealing the angry red scratches on her palms, the marks of that middle–aged woman’s nails.
The pain was just starting to settle in, a burning sensation that grew more intense by the minute.
Howard applied the ointment to her wounds, spreading it gently, the coolness a relief. Gwendolyn watched him, thinking how wonderful it would be if there were no
agreements, no pretense.
“All done.” He placed the ointment back into the pocket of her coat.
“I should go see Dr. Yates now.” said Gwendolyn.
“Go ahead.”
He had his own scores to settle.
As Gwendolyn stepped out of the hospital room, she saw Mack fawning and Polly standing anxiously to one side.
“Gwendolyn, I was blind to your worth. Please forgive me. No more menial tasks for you. From now on, you’ll only assist Dr. Yates,” Mack said with a sycophantic grin, his plump cheeks quivering.
“Gwendolyn, I’m so sorry. It was all Mamie’s doing. From now on, I’ll steer clear of you,” Polly pleaded, on the verge of tears.
Gwendolyn watched their performance in silence before replying, “You’re not fit to be doctors. Now, excuse me, I have work to do.”
She walked past them without another word.
Polly’s tears remained on her cheeks. “Mack, will she retaliate?”
Mack’s face soured, “She’s the least of our worries.”
Before Polly could feel relieved, he added, “But Howard won’t let this slide.”
Howard was never one to be crossed.
At that moment, as Gwendolyn walked away, her path was set on a new, unforeseen
course.