Chapter 294 Regrets

With the itching stopped, Emily glared at Mason and demanded loudly, "What's going on? Have you

been messing around with others behind my back? How else could I have caught an STD?"

Emily wanted to keep her own infidelity a secret.

"I... I haven’t," Mason replied, his guilt making his voice falter. After all, he had indeed been

unfaithful often, sometimes not using protection for the thrill of it.

"Are you feeling guilty?" Emily had an iron grip on Mason; she knew very well he had indulged with

other women. She planned to use this opportunity to keep him in line, ensuring her own affairs

would be easier in the future. She figured, since Mason was cheating, she was entitled to her

infidelities as well.

Emily had married Mason not for love, but because he was the wealthiest of her suitors. Her

marriage was for financial security, while her affair was for love—pure and unadulterated.

Mason, oblivious to Emily's plans and her affair, was defensive due to his own infidelity and could

only deny it.

"I... I haven’t cheated on you!"

"You're stuttering. What’s the matter?"

"I'm worried about you. I don’t want anything to happen to you."

"If you hadn’t cheated, why would I get an STD?"

"Who said you have an STD? You believe that country boy’s nonsense? I say the pimples on your

face are because you're not used to the environment here. Maybe something you ate at lunch

caused an allergic reaction."

Then, something dawned on Mason. "Right! We had wild mushrooms in one of the dishes, and you

ate a lot of those. I suspect it's those mushrooms; you've been poisoned!"

"Heh!" Brittany laughed coldly before chiming in. "It's just an STD; no big deal! Just admit it, and let

the country boy treat you. Otherwise, if it gets worse and becomes untreatable, you could even die.

Don't come to regret it later!"

"Brittany, stop spouting nonsense here! STD? You're the one with an STD! I've been poisoned by

wild mushrooms; it's not an STD!"

"Emily, not just you ate those wild mushrooms, I also had plenty. But look at my face—clear and

pimple-free. Unlike you, face full of pimples, covered in cow dung. Disgusting."

"Enough, both of you! Stop it!" Oliver interrupted the quarrel, turning to Daniel. "Can you really

practice medicine?"

"I learned from the village doctor, so I know a bit."

Daniel was nothing if not modest, perhaps too modest. If his life-saving medical skills were

considered "a bit," then all of America's doctors wouldn’t qualify as physicians.

"Will you examine me then?"

"Sure!"

Daniel rolled up Oliver's trouser leg and began pressing around the area with his hands.