The doctor scrutinized the report, remarking after a prolonged examination, âThe patient is suffering from acute gastritis, coupled with prolonged malnourishment.
â
Gastritis? Malnourishment?
Was Melissa intentionally subjecting herself to this state, hoping to elicit Marcusâ compassion?
Marcus pressed his lips together, commanding, âAdmit her to the hospital.
â
Promptly, the doctor instructed the nurse to carry out the order.
Daunted by Marcusâ authority, they refrained from inquiring or upsetting him, given that 52 percent of the hospitalâs shares were under the Fowler Groupâs ownership.
Eventually, Melissa lay in the serene confines of the ward.
A transfusion bottle dangled from her slender arm, the skin around the needle puncture taking on a faint greenish-blue tint.
Her state remained unconscious.
Despite the presence of a sofa in the ward, Marcus refrained from sitting.
He stood by the window, peering downstairs.
He dialed Sylvia, entrusting her with the handling of affairs at the hospital.
Marcus had firmly decided to end his relationship with Melissa, and this decision remained steadfast.
He wouldnât reconsider due to her illness.
Sylvia arrived promptly.
Gazing into the room, she seemed momentarily lost.
After a brief pause, she called out softly, âMr.
Fowler.
â
At the sound of her voice, Marcus pivoted.
Passing a medical record to Sylvia, Marcus issued a direct command.
âIâve covered her hospitalization costs.
Arrange for someone to attend to her until her discharge.
â
Contemplating for a moment, Sylvia inquired, âMr.
Fowler, wonât you be personally looking after her?â
Marcusâ gaze shifted to the bed where Melissa lay, a picture of fragility.
He offered a faint smile.
âI ended things with her.
â With that, he proceeded to exit the ward.
Simultaneously, a murmur emanated from the bed.
âRyanâ¦â
Upon hearing this, Marcusâ countenance grew somber.
Sylvia, too, held her breath.
Following a prolonged silence, Marcus pushed the door ajar and left with a sardonic expression.
Sylvia trailed after him to pose her inquiries.
In the tranquility of the ward, Melissaâs soft voice uttered, âRyan, I donât love you.
Iâve grown fond of him.
â
Melissa continued to murmur repeatedly, yet Marcus wasnât there to hear her out.