6

Despite what transpired last night, I continued to care for Ivan. I provided him with a meal and assisted him with dressing. The doctor has given the green signal for him to go home, so we're just waiting for his bills to be settled.

I was seated on the sofa, Ivan occupied the edge of the bed while his sibling stood near the door, seemingly trying to gauge our emotions. I couldn't help but notice the tension in Ivan, yet I refrained from making eye contact with him throughout.

"Let's go," my mother-in-law declared, clutching the receipt and a few prescriptions for Ivan's take-home medications. A nurse with a wheelchair awaited behind her.

"You should head home and rest there."

I remained silent, anticipating Ivan's complaint, but all he offered in response was a deep sigh.

With help, he was settled into the wheelchair and went out the door ahead, propelled by his sibling. My mother-in-law gave me an assuring smile. She embraced me and guided me outside while I remained silent.

I often observe Ivan's parents sharing frequent glances with each other.

"Why don't you two stay in the guestroom? Ivan needs some morning sunlight, and it would be inconvenient for him if the two of you slept in the upstairs room," his mom suggested. Ivan and I remained silent. His thoughts appeared deep, and he hadn't spoken a word since earlier.

Perhaps it's better this way, rather than saying something that might only upset those around him. I followed him into the guest room. A male nurse assisted him with lying down on the bed. His parents had arranged for a personal nurse to help him, so I wouldn't have a difficult time taking care of him.

At this point, I'm uncertain whether I should wait for him to recover as originally planned or simply leave. After all, I have somewhere else to go, thanks to Rachelle. I sat on the sofa and closed my eyes to gather my thoughts, even though my mind was in turmoil.

Taking a deep breath, I noticed that Ivan was already focused on me as I opened my eyes.

Our gazes locked, and I met his intense stare.

"Allow me to be your wife for a month, Ivan."

His lips quivered, but he remained silent, his brow furrowed.

"What do you mean?" he inquired.

I simply smiled. "Let me be your wife. And if you still can't love me within a month, I'll leave, and you won't see me again."

His frown deepened, and his jaw displayed a subtle twitch. I, too, was perplexed by the way he responded.

Maintaining a smile, I said, "You'll be free after one month to marry the woman you love," and then rose from my seat. "Just dial the phone if you need anything."

I briefly left the guestroom and walked to the garden to breathe fresh air. My mother-in-law's flowers were in full bloom, and I found pleasure in observing them.

I allowed my gaze to wander over the entire surroundings, reaching all the way to the Fabregas mansion. I will miss this house and the family that had become my second family.

***

"What would you like to eat?" I asked Ivan when he woke up in the afternoon.

I positioned a glass of water on the small table next to the bed, alongside his medication, because he was about to take it. However, his stomach needed something in it first.

"What if, after one month..." he began.

We exchanged glances. "I'll leave," I replied. "If you still can't love me, I'll go. It's enough for me to be your wife for a month. Let me play my role as your wife, and you, be a husband to me, even if it's for a short time." As I conveyed this, it felt as though my heart was being twisted.

"Okay," he responded briefly.

"Thank you," I smiled, dispelling the negative thoughts that had been haunting my mind. I wished to fill our remaining time with happy memories. I didn't want to create another drama. I didn't want his pity, nor did I wish for him to become irritated by my tears.

Being dramatic is exhausting, and crying is tiring.

"Do you want some soup? The cook made it."

"Okay. I'd like some chop suey later tonight." I smiled. Chop suey was the first dish I prepared when I arrived at the Fabregas' house. My in-laws said I was good at making that dish.

"I'll fetch your food from the kitchen."

"Just have the maids do it," he insisted. "Come watch the basketball game with me."

I'm not really into basketball, but because I was watching it with him, I knew I'd enjoy it.

As we watched, I took care of his meal, almost as if he were a child in need of my help with his food.

I didn't find it bothersome in the least; in fact, I was delighted that he allowed me to look after him this way. It created a sense of genuine togetherness between us.

"Why aren't you eating?" he asked. I only asked for one bowl from the maid, as he was the only one eating.

"I'll eat in the kitchen later," I replied, taking another spoonful and gently offering it to him.

He took the spoon from my hand, filled it with soup, and then fed me. I was taken by surprise by this gesture, so I didn't react immediately.

"Say 'ah,'" he encouraged. I bit my lower lip before parting my lips. He smiled and fed me once more.

"What's gotten into you?" he playfully complained. "I'm already feeding you, and you're still making a mess."

He gently wiped the edges of my lips. When he noticed my flushed cheeks, a smile broke across his face.

He continued to spoon-feed me until the bowl was empty. Afterward, I gave him his medicine.

After the show he was watching ended, he mentioned that he wanted to take a short nap.

I briefly left to tidy up our dining utensils, wearing a smile. I couldn't help but be astonished by his earlier actions. His behavior toward me was truly surprising.

As I placed the tray in the sink, I held my chest as I felt my heart pounding, then took a deep breath. Perhaps I had asked for more than I could handle in my request. It might make it even harder for me to leave when the time comes.