Chapter 133: It Would Be Rude to Refuse
’Why did Evan Fairchild’s embrace suddenly make her feel this way?’
’Melody Monroe had no idea. Had she gone crazy to be feeling this way?’
Evan Fairchild looked down at the woman in his arms, the corners of his lips curving up slightly.
She had just thrown herself into his embrace so obediently, soft as a little rabbit.
Her warm breath ghosted over his heart, like a wisp of a spring breeze suddenly blowing through it.
He found he couldn’t bear to let her go.
Tommy placed the things he was carrying onto the table. "President Fairchild, are there any other instructions?"
"Don’t let anyone in."
"Understood." Tommy withdrew.
The moment Melody Monroe heard the door close, she scrambled out of Evan Fairchild’s arms and huddled in a corner, trying to calm her frantic heart.
With his arms suddenly empty, Evan Fairchild felt as if his heart had been hollowed out as well.
"You’re having an allergic reaction, so you can’t eat anything else. I had some plain porridge prepared." He turned and opened the containers Tommy had brought in.
"Thank you, but I... I’m not hungry." Melody Monroe shook her head and took out her phone, typing a line of text: *I really can’t trouble you, President Fairchild. It’s not convenient for me to see anyone when I’m in this state. Please, you should go.*
"I’ve already seen you. What’s so inconvenient about it?" Evan Fairchild retorted.
Melody Monroe was speechless. She held her phone, her fingers tapping on the screen for a moment before she deleted everything. She sighed in frustration.
"I’m really not hungry."
"Not hungry? Fine. I’ll wait until you are, and I’ll leave after you’ve eaten."
Melody Monroe immediately reached out to take the bowl of porridge. ’It’s just a bowl of porridge, isn’t it? I can finish it in no time!’
Evan Fairchild raised his hand, moving the bowl away from her. Instead of handing it to her, he picked up the spoon, scooped up some porridge, and blew on it. "Your hand is still on an IV drip, so it’s not convenient. I’ll feed you."
’He’s going to feed me?’
Melody Monroe was utterly thrown.
In her memory, no one had ever fed her before.
"Open your mouth," Evan Fairchild said, holding the spoon out to her.
Melody Monroe wasn’t just dealing with an allergic reaction now; because of Evan Fairchild, her entire body had gone stiff.
The moment the spoon reached her lips, she opened her mouth reflexively. After swallowing the mouthful of porridge, she felt even more awkward.
Evan Fairchild wasn’t in a hurry, feeding her slowly. After a few bites, Melody Monroe paused, unable to resist glancing up at him.
That one glance made her freeze.
She saw her own reflection mirrored in his eyes.
She saw that his eyes were filled with tenderness.
Bathed in the warm light, the moment seemed to take on a hazy, intoxicating glow.
This was not the Evan Fairchild she knew.
This was not the Evan Fairchild she was familiar with.
"Have a little more," Evan Fairchild said, scooping up another spoonful of porridge and holding it out.
Melody Monroe stiffly finished the entire bowl of porridge. Whether it was the medicine taking effect or because she had eaten something, her tongue felt more nimble and not as uncomfortable as before.
"I’m finished," Melody Monroe reminded him softly. She noticed that her voice was much clearer now when she spoke.
’Didn’t Evan Fairchild say he would leave after she finished eating?’
"I have one more question." Evan Fairchild set the bowl down and continued in an unhurried tone, "When will you make good on that ’seven-day agreement’ you mentioned last time?"
"I..." Melody Monroe’s brain felt like it was about to short-circuit. ’When did this become a seven-day agreement?’
"Is the great President Fairchild really that desperate for company?" Melody Monroe couldn’t help but retort.
"I’m not desperate. But since Miss Monroe was the one who brought it up, how could I possibly refuse?"