Chapter 41

ROWAN’S POV

She hesitated for a second, biting her lower lip. “She’s already invited me, hasn't she? Maybe... maybe it’s time I stopped seeing her as my enemy. I don’t think she hates me anymore.”

I studied her closely through the mirror, my brows furrowed. Matilda had always been timid, hiding behind others. But deep down, I knew she wasn't a bad person.

“Well then, I guess I'll come with you,” I said after a moment.

Matilda smiled faintly. “Thank you, Rowan,” she whispered.

Despite my calm exterior, I was feeling a strange tension gnawing at me. Something was disturbing me and—it was Isabelle. For some reason I couldn't explain, I also wanted more interactions with her.

Ever since she suddenly stopped clinging to me or chasing me, I couldn’t shake the unease I was feeling in my gut

It was as though I lost something without even realizing it.

ISABELLE’S POV

Once I left the supermarket, I went straight to Alan’s modest home with the groceries I bought. My mind still wandered briefly to Kael and Matilda, but I quickly pushed the thought aside. Alan needed my full attention now.

When I arrived at his house, I stood by the door knocking a few times with no response.

Anxiety crawled through me when I knocked the fifth time and there was still no response at all. My expression hardened into a deep scowl, and I began walking around to the windows and peering in.

“Alan!” I called out, trying my best to see through the creeks in the window. I could hardly see inside but a single candle was burning on his table and I knew Alan must be home.

‘Why wasn't he answering,’ I wondered, my heart starting to race. I finally gave in and pushed through the door, it didn't budge but after a few nudges, the rusty lock gave way and I stepped in.

The interior was dark, with only a single candle flickering on his desk casting a dim glow.

“Alan!” I called out again, looking around curiously, but I still didn't hear a response. Nothing seemed off in his house, he still had unfinished paintings littered around and masterpieces hanging on the wall.

In the kitchen, there was a half eaten sandwich sitting on his counter.

The house was dead silent but as I stepped closer inside towards his stairs, I suddenly heard a low growl. I rushed upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time.

My heart immediately sank when I pushed the room door open and I saw Alan lying pale and motionless on his bed. Sweat glistening on his brow, and his chest rising rapidly with heavy breaths.

“Alan,” I called softly, sitting on the bed beside him. He slowly stirred awake, his eyes fluttering open weakly, he blinked as he saw me.

“Isabelle... you should not be here,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, struggling to keep his eyes open. “You need to leave right now.”

“Nonsense,” I snapped at him. “I can't leave you in this condition.”

“No…” he drawled out, his eyes sliding shut.

I ignored his weak protest and pulled his blanket off his torso, placing my palm on his head to feel his temperature.

“You’re burning up,” I exclaimed, shooting up from the bed. “I’m sending for a doctor.”

Alan still attempted to protest and stop me, but I silenced him with a pointed glare. Then I rushed back downstairs outside and ordered a maid to fetch the best doctor in town with a fierce look.

Once the maid left to get the doctor, I returned to Alan's room, scrambling around till I found a small towel. I ran it under his sink and placed the cold cloth on his forehead, my fingers brushing against his damp hair.

“You’re such a stubborn man,” I whispered. “Why didn’t you tell anyone you were feeling so sick?”

His lips curled up into a faint shaky smile, “I…I just didn't want to trouble anyone.” he whispered back trembling.

“You are impossible,” I muttered, shaking my head.

In a few minutes, the doctor arrived, he walked into the room carrying a huge suitcase.

I rose from the bed and gave him space to examine Alan thoroughly.

I bit my lips hard as I watched the examination with anxiety, my hands suddenly cold as I wrangled them together.

After a while, the doctor rose with a blank expression and faced me.

“Severe malnutrition and exhaustion,” he said gravely. “This young man must have been overworking himself without any proper nourishment. All he needs to recover is a lot of rest and regular healthy meals.”

I nodded slowly watching Alan's lean figure sprawled out on the bed.

“Thank you, Doctor, for coming here on such short notice,” I said.

He barely nodded and picked up his briefcase, “I also have a list of medications he should be taking.” He added, handing me a small prescription slip.

I took it, placing it gently in my pocket and then I escorted him out. Once the door was shut and I gave my maid the prescription, I slowly returned to Alan’s bedside. “Malnutrition? Alan, what have you been doing to yourself?” I whispered, sitting in the bed, with a deep sigh.

He avoided my gaze, his cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

“I’ve been busy with commissions and the paintings.”

My chest tightened. I have always admired Alan’s dedication to his art, but I never knew just how hard it must be for him.

When the medicines arrived, I picked them up and gently urged him to take them.

Alan hesitated, looking very flustered, his hand trembling as he held the glass of water. “You don’t have to do this, Isabelle.”

“Stop being so stubborn,” I snapped, my tone teasing yet firm. “Take the pills.”

As Alan reluctantly took the medicine, I could hear his heart pounding and I couldn’t resist leaning closer, my lips curling into a mischievous smile.

“You know, while you were unconscious, you said some very interesting things.”

Alan froze, his eyes widening in panic. “I... what did I say to you?”

“You mumbled something about liking me,” I said, acting nonchalant and indifferent as I lied.

His face instantly burned red, and he stammered, unable to meet my gaze. I leaned in further, my voice a mere whisper.

“Alan,” I said softly. “Do you like me?” I asked my tone gently and teasingly.

His breathing quickened, and I could see his hands grip the cotton bed sheet tight.

“I... Isabelle, you are amazing, and I—” He stopped, hesitating for a moment, shaking his head. “But I don't think I'm worthy of you.”

I frowned, my playful grin fading. “Why would you say that?”