Knowing so much about their history left her feeling deeply sorry for the situation.
Tilda snapped back to attention, her fingers curling as she lowered her gaze and put on her glasses without saying a word.
âAlright, make sure to keep the wound dry and come back for a follow-up in a week,â the doctor reminded Tilda.
âOkay,â Tilda responded quietly.
âYour clothes are torn.
Wear my coat before you leave,â the doctor offered kindly, handing her coat to Tilda.
âThank you,â Tilda said as she put on the coat and walked out.
Outside, Elma sat on a bench holding Sheldon.
When Tilda emerged, Elma hurriedly stood up.
âTilda, are you alright?â
âYes, Iâm fine,â Tilda assured her.
âMom, does it hurt?â Sheldon inquired, his big eyes filled with worry.
âNo, sweetheart, it doesnât hurt,â Tilda reassured him, gently patting his little head.
The doctor glanced around but didnât see Lyndon.
âWhere is Mr.
Fernandez?â
âDad is probably off somewhere crying because heâs worried about Mom,â
Sheldon speculated.
Everyone exchanged surprised glances.
Just then, they spotted Lyndon striding toward them from a distance, his tall figure striking under the soft light.
ALL eyes were on him, silently questioning if Sheldonâs words held truth.
Lyndonâs focus was solely on Tilda as he approached her swiftly and asked in a soft voice, âHas your wound been treated?â
âYes,â Tilda replied, meeting his gaze.
She noticed the faint redness around his eyes.
Had he really been crying?
Lyndon sensed the awkward atmosphere and Lightly touched his face, asking, âIs there something on my face?â
Tildaâs gaze faltered, and she looked away.
The doctor standing next to them couldnât contain her laughter.
âMr.
Fernandez, thereâs nothing on your face.
I just didnât expect you to be so emotional.
â
Lyndon was perplexed.
âWhat do you mean?â