CHAPTER 77 SEND THE FLOWER YOURSELF.

The toy

.

.

I walked out of my mother’s room, and the whole environment was choking and suffocating me. Mrs. Johnson was right—I need this break. I had been spending most of my days and nights with my mother, trying to fit in my personal work while she was asleep. The constant care and balancing of my responsibilities had become overwhelming.

I placed my hand on my waist as I walked through the hallway, my body aching from head to toe. The exhaustion crippled every part of me, and I desperately needed the comfort of a proper bed instead of the small couch I had been using. My muscles screamed for relief, and each step reminded me of how much rest I truly needed.

While walking, a female nurse approached me, saying, "Excuse me." She handed me a bouquet of white lilies and purple roses, adding, "Mr. Wesley said to give this to you," before walking away.

Holding the flowers in my hands, my chest tightened. Damon was here and didn’t stop by.

I noticed a small note attached to the flowers.