Chapter 1331


    After wrapping up the mess with 002, Mr. K casually waved his hand in front of Maja’s eyes.


    "How’s the visioning along?"


    "Not too bad, I think I’ll get back to normal in a week. I’m seeing more shapes now.”


    Maja got to her feet, trying to navigate her way out, but stumbled over the corner of the coffee table.


    She fell forward towards K, her hand “identally” reaching for his mask.


    But K was quicker. He pinned her down on the couch, his voice even more indifferent.


    “Be careful.”


    It suddenly came to Maja’s mind how this man had always kept distance from her.


    Could it be that he never takes off his mask, even in the seclusion of this vi?


    Her brows furrowed.


    It seemed she’d have to find another opportunity.


    Two dayster, in a vi in Greenfield.


    Zoey had been learning how to change dressings and treat wounds from the doctor for the past few


    days.


    The doctor stood up, “He should wake up today. Keep the diet light for the next month.”


    “OK.”


    Zoey politely escorted the doctor out and then sat by the bedside, waiting.


    She had never dared to look closely at Fitch’s face before.


    If Ian’s features were aristocratic and aloof, then Fitch’s were domineering and brooding.


    He showed no tenderness towards women, never kissed her, nor did he bother to ask about her affairs.


    But perhaps girls will always hold a peculiar sentiment for the first guy to get intimate with. So now,


    staring intently at his face, she could not help but feel Fitch indeed had an impressive appearance.


    She was exhausted, having watched over his IV drip all night without daring to blink. Now, all she felt


    was an overwhelming sense of sleepiness.


    Fitch woke up to pain all over his body.


    He stared at the ceiling and slowly propped himself up, with an odd sensation in his hand. He searched


    along this sensation and found a woman in sleep at the bedside.


    Her head was buried downward, and he instinctively thought she was a maid.


    “I’m hungry.”


    Zoey was jolted by the sound of his voice, quickly lifting her head and snapping to attention.


    “What would you like to eat? I’ll make it for you now.”


    “Porridge.”


    Zoey got up, noticing how he struggled to rise.


    His brow furrowed, and the many bandages wrapping his body were now evident to him. With great


    effort, he tried to make it to the bathroom.Belonging ? N?velDram/a.Org.


    Zoey, fearing he’d fall, hurried to support his arm.


    Standing at the urinal, she felt so embarrassed that she averted her gaze in no time.


    "I’ll wait outside for you!"


    She headed out, only to hear the sound of running water soon after.


    Fitch had lost weight, his nose now more sculpted. Washing his hands at the sink, he nced at the


    bandages wrapped around his head.


    Opening the bathroom door, he found the woman outside, quietly waiting.


    His body felt fairly clean. She had carefully wiped him down over the past few days, preventing even a


    trace of sweat.


    Fitch’s gaze lingered on her, making her a bit uneasy.


    After a while, he graciously extended his hand.


    “Help me downstairs. I''m too weak to walk to the couch.”


    His rare gentle tone took Zoey by surprise.


    After snapping back to reality, she hurried to act as his support.


    Once downstairs, she carefully ced him on the couch.


    “I''ll make the porridge.”


    She disappeared into the kitchen.


    Fitch looked around the vi. Feeling his head aching slightly, he massaged his forehead.


    Then he got up slowly and approached the fridge.


    The sticky note on its door meticulously listed the fresh vegetables added that day, the expiration dates


    of the milk, and so on.


    It was a long note, written in detail with elegant penmanship.


    He opened the fridge, realizing that the vegetables were changed daily.


    His mood turned inexplicably lightened, and he walked slowly into the kitchen.


    Zoey, apron-d, was chopping vegetables.


    She didn’t make sweet porridge, guessing that a cold man like Fitch wouldn’t like it sweet.


    Her savory porridge was apanied by a few simple side dishes.


    When she brought the dishes to the table, Fitch was holding a book and reading it fascinatingly on the


    couch.


    “Time to eat.”


    She called out, removing her apron and serving him a bowl of porridge.


    But she didn’t dare to sit; in her limited memory, she had never shared a meal with Fitch.


    So after doing all these, she sat at a distance, as if her very presence might ruin his appetite.


    Fitch sat alone at the dining table for a while before he tentatively called out.


    “Honey?”


    Zoey was taken aback.


    He observed her expression closely, his slender fingers gripping the spoon, “We are not?”


    “No, don’t get me wrong, we’re just friends!”


    Better to clear things up in case he would use her of trying to im a rtionship once he got fully


    recovered.


    Fitch, seeing how she was familiar with the house, noticing the absence of maids, and the meticulous


    care she gave, had assumed that she was his wife.


    “Do you have a crush on me?”


    Otherwise, why would she take such good care of him?


    Zoey panicked.


    "No, Mr. Haskins, you might have hurt your head. The doctor said a month of rest would get you


    recovered. I do not have crush on you, and you don’t have have crush on me."


    “I know.”


    He replied with a casual and icy tone as he spooned the porridge, “I’d never have a crush.”


    Zoey forced an awkward smile.