The Windfalls of Love (Roxanne and Harrison)

Chapter 326

Evelyn furrowed her brow, a twinge of pain shooting through her recently operated-on lower back as

her laughter, too hearty for her own good, pulled at the stitches. In the excitement of seeing Dominic,

she had forgotten the doctor's advice to keep it down, to be gentle with herself. Now, she dared not

even breathe too deeply for fear of aggravating the wound.

Taking a slow breath, she glanced at Dominic's worried expression and felt bubbles of joy pop inside

her. It was such a thrill. But she had to be careful not to overdo it, not to laugh too hard and reignite the

pain in her incision.

Pretending to be in more pain than she was, she scrunched her face up pitifully.

Dominic, propping himself against the edge of the hospital bed, leaned in close, giving her a thorough

once-over.

"What's wrong? Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Evelyn parted her pale lips, trying to speak, but no sound came out. Dominic, mistaking her silence for

weakness from the pain, leaned his ear closer to catch her whisper.

In a voice barely above a breath, Evelyn beckoned, "Dominic, come a little closer."

He obliged, edging nearer. "Take your time, no rush," he soothed.

Evelyn fluttered her lashes feebly, motioning with a weak hand for him to draw even closer. He followed

her silent request, his cheek nearly brushing against hers.

Just seconds ago, Evelyn's face was a mask of frailty. Now, she gently kissed Dominic's cheek, her

smile sweet and tender.

As her soft lips met his skin, Dominic realized he'd been duped.

Touching the spot where her kiss had landed, he looked up, a frown creasing his brow. "Seems like

you're not as hurt as you let on," he said, half-serious.

Evelyn, pressing gingerly on her back where the stitches pulled, pouted. "I'm seriously hurt, you know?

I could have died!"

"You should talk less and rest more if you're that bad off," Dominic chided, recalling Harrison's

instructions for her post-op care: little talking, lots of rest.

Evelyn, fearing he was angry and didn't want to hear her speak, grew anxious. Her eyes, though weary

and weak, betrayed her urgency. "Dominic, really. During the surgery, I think I got what you meant

about that brush with death feeling. I thought I was a goner. It felt like my soul wanted to leap out of my

body. Like I could see everything around me but couldn't open my eyes or move at all. Dominic, I'm not

lying to you."

She didn't want to deceive him. She truly had felt that terrifying brush with death and feared, more than

anything, that she might die before winning over the man of her dreams. How tragic would that be? At

thirty, she had never been in love. Without a single romantic kiss, she'd be the laughingstock of all.

Dominic noticed her hair was a mess. His fingers brushed through her tousled strands, gently tucking

them behind her ear. His fingers lingered for a few seconds at the ends of her hair as his voice

softened, "Talk less, rest more, and just relax."

Evelyn's lips curved into a smile, brimming with joy.

"Dominic, do you think maybe you've started to like me, even just a little?" she ventured.

Dominic's stern gaze returned, and he didn't answer.

Her excitement undimmed, Evelyn continued, "Dominic, have you ever heard this quote from a novelist Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

I adore?"

"I don't care for literary books, especially not about love," Dominic confessed, his interests lying more

with computers and global economic trends than with matters of the heart.

"It doesn’t matter. I like them enough for both of us. I'll read it to you sometime. The quote goes

something like this." She paraphrased, adapting to her own feelings, "If I loved you, and you happened

to love me, when your hair got messy, I'd laugh and gently smooth it out, my hand lingering a few

seconds longer than necessary."

That's exactly what Dominic had done: smoothed out her hair and let his fingers rest for those precious

seconds. At that moment, Evelyn tasted a flavor of love, brief as a snowflake melting into the spring.

She foresaw hope and felt utterly blissful.

Now, with a smile that echoed her happiness, she looked up at Dominic, who sighed heavily, wondering

if such a small gesture warranted such joy.

Was it truly worth all her happiness?

While she beamed, he couldn't help but see a touch of sadness, a reflection of his own past. Hadn't he

too once rejoiced over trivial details from Roxanne, as if they heralded the end of winter?

Even when Roxanne had merely changed how she addressed him, it was enough to keep him awake

at night, replaying the warmth in her voice, the friendliness in her eyes, and smiling foolishly to himself.

He understood Evelyn's feelings all too well, yet also pitied her.

But love isn't charity. He couldn't be with her just because he pitied her.

Looking at her, content with so little, he tried to console her. "After my surgery, when I was blind and

helpless, you took care of me for days. To show my gratitude, I'm here to look after you until you're

discharged."

"No, don't," Evelyn rejected firmly, pouting.

Dominic frowned, puzzled.

Evelyn clarified with conviction, "Dominic, my affection for you is just me sharing my feelings, not

demanding a relationship in return. Likewise, when I cared for you, it was to wish you a speedy

recovery, not expecting anything back. If you're staying just out of gratitude, then I don't want it."

She sought his genuine desire, not repayment.

Talking had exhausted her, especially after the surgery. Despite her fatigue, her eyes shone with

determination. "Dominic, love isn't a handout. I don't want your pity."

Dominic’s brow furrowed deeper, and a weight seemed to press on his heart.

Evelyn had just finished a long-winded rant, and now she truly felt the weight of her fatigue.

Waving a feeble hand, she beckoned, "Dominic, come closer, would you?"

Obliging, Dominic stepped near.

Her fingers, soft yet slightly cool, came to rest on his forehead. Gently, she smoothed out the worry

lines that creased between his brows.

"Dominic, you shouldn't be so down all the time. You know, you've got a killer smile," she teased.

Dominic was at a loss for words.

The woman before him always seemed to dance on the line between strength and vulnerability.

She inspired his admiration while drawing out his compassion.

Suddenly, his thoughts were a tangled mess.

Evelyn withdrew her hand, visibly drained. She blinked slowly, a sweet smile on her lips, "Alright then,

waking up to see you has already made my day. Could you go get my parents for me.?"

She was genuinely exhausted.

After all, she had just undergone surgery.

Her weariness and frailty stirred something in Dominic—a feeling of tenderness he couldn't quite name.