Chapter 11


    Chapter 11 I Must Be Cursed


    I pressed my l*ps together and did not respond. It was not something hard to understand. Anyone with


    eyes could see the truth.


    He seemed somewhat angry, but he kept it inside, took a sip of the soup, and said, “This is too nd. I


    can’t eat it.”


    I frowned. “But the doctor said you can’t eat anything else right now.”


    He raised an eyebrow and said, “Not even salt?”


    I stood up and nodded, suppressing my temper, and said, “Fine, I’ll go find some.‘


    It was already past midnight, so most of the street vendors around the hospital had packed up. After


    wandering around, I finally found a 24–hour convenience store and bought some salt. To avoid any


    further issues, I also bought some sugar.


    I had spent a long day shopping with Sweety, so my feet were sore from all the walking. My heels were


    even bleeding a little, making me limp as I returned to the hospital.


    When I finally got back to the hospital room, Moore was unfortunately also there. God knew how long


    she had been there for. She was peeling an apple and saying to Idris with a loving expression, “I


    couldn’t sleep at home. I only feel at ease here with you. Iddy, don’t be so impulsive next time. I’m not


    worth the risk!”


    Was this the right time to be dering their love for each other?


    I nced down at the salt and sugar in my hands and almostughed. Was I cursed?


    After a moment of silence in the room, Idris finally spoke. His voice sounded tired as if he had had


    enough. “It’ste. I’ll have Ensioe to take you home. You should rest.”


    “No,” Moore said, her eyes filled with yearning. “I can’t leave you here alone. I wouldn’t be able to


    sleep. Let me stay,”


    Idris frowned. “Someone else is here already. You should go.”


    “Who’s here? It’s already sote. Just let me stay.” Moore had a pleading expression on her face. It


    looked like she would burst into tears if Idris disagreed.


    I initially nned to leave, but when I looked into the room, I ended up meeting Idris‘ indifferent gaze.


    He was clearly referring to me, the cursed one, when he said someone was already here.


    His beloved would get to go home and rest, while I had to stay up and keep watch? As if I was some


    free caretaker?


    This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.


    Frustrated, I walked into the room and said to Moore, “I’ll have to trouble you to take good care of your


    Iddy tonight then, Moore.”


    Moore seemed startled by my sudden appearance. “When did you get here?”


    “A while ago,” I said with a faint smile, ncing at Idris.


    She looked guilty, probably because Idris was there. “Yvette, don’t misunderstand. I’m just worried


    about Iddy. What happened today is my fault. Don’t me Iddy, he… meant well.”


    Seeing her acting all pitiful and innocent made me feel sick. I forced a smile and said to Idris, “It’s clear


    that she really cares for you. Why don’t you let her stay and take care of you tonight, Mr. Young? What


    do you say?”


    Idris frowned, avoiding my question, and asked in a low voice, ‘Why did it take you so long?”


    His question only fueled my irritation more. He had the nerve to send me out to buy something for him


    while he enjoyed his time with his mistress Moore?


    “I stayed outside for a while since the air was so nice,” I said, avoiding his dark expression. I went to his


    bedside and picked up the now–cold soup, then said, “The soup’s cold. Mr. Young, so you might want


    to ask Moore to prepare something else for you to eat.” After saying that, I tossed the porridge into the


    trash, wiped my hands with a paper towel, and said to a somewhat stunned Moore, “I’ll leave him in


    your care, then.”


    I then turned to Idris with a forced smile. “Mr. Young, have a good rest. I won’t disturb you any


    longer.‘


    })


    I left the room and handed the salt and sugar to the nurse on duty.


    The nurse, who was there to reapply Idris‘ medication, thought the bag contained trash and looked


    confused. “Hey, is this trash? Why didn’t you throw it in the bin?”


    I smiled faintly, nced back at Idris‘ gloomy face in the room, and said to the nurse in an


    indecipherable tone, “Yes, it’s all trash.”


    After that, I left the hospital.


    The following day, Monday, as I was getting ready to leave, I saw a car from the Young’s Old Manor


    parked outside the vi.


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