"No complaints, you're doing great," said Seth.

Cicely laughed. "I think I'm doing pretty well, too. But you seem less than thrilled with me, if I'm not mistaken."

It was only then that the nurse, busy as a beaver tidying up, sensed the undercurrents of discord and made a hasty retreat from the room.

"You're doing a great job. So, since you don't like staying in the hospital, I'll be discharged to continue having you take care of me. What gave you the impression I'm dissatisfied?"

Seth's tone was as flat as a pancake, devoid of ripples, patiently explaining as if he were the caregiver rather than the one in need of care.

Cicely held his gaze for a moment longer. "Falling ill is as common as rain, and there are things that don't need to be spelled out by me. Whatever happens, I won't be pointing fingers. Just focus on healing."d2

Seth finally furrowed his brow, putting down his fork and looking up at Cicely. "What do you mean by 'whatever happens'?"

Cicely pursed her lips. "Nothing. Just saying."

Seth didn't buy her nonchalance, but he knew pressing for a real answer would be like getting blood from a stone.

"Charlie's been waiting outside. You don't look like you'll be resting any time soon, and he's probably brought a ton of work for you."

Cicely stood up, opened the door to let Charlie in, then placed a glass of water by Seth's side. "I'll leave you to it."

Charlie came in with a laptop and a stack of papers, quickly clearing the dinnerware from in front of Seth.

Once out of the room, Cicely shook off the chilly gaze that had clung to her like a second skin.

Charlie also sensed the underlying tension between the two under the calm exterior, but he had no clue. He could only systematically report the situation within the company to Seth. Cicely stood before Danielle's door for a long moment before pushing it open.

Danielle, who had finished her lunch not long before, was propped up in bed, eyeing Cicely coldly as she entered.

"What do you want?"

Cicely, "Just checking if you've kicked the bucket yet."

Accustomed to Cicely's acerbic wit, Danielle simply smirked. "Sorry to disappoint."

Cicely approached and lifted the blanket off Danielle, who could only express her discontent and anger with her face.

"What are you doing?"

Cicely's eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of Danielle's bandaged, immobile legs. She withdrew her hand, her gaze flicking over the bandages on Danielle's hands. "Indeed, very disappointing."

Danielle let out a cold laugh but remained silent.

"Since you can't die, try not to be a burden. It's quite a feat to hurt others even in your condition."

Danielle frowned. "What do you mean?"

Something clicked in Cicely's head as she observed Danielle's propped-up figure, a sudden epiphany.

With a sarcastic twist of her lips, she said, "After leaving your place, Seth's got a fresh wound on his arm. People who don't know any better might think you two had a fight." Danielle paused, her expression faltering.

With a wound on his arm, he still held her.

A flicker of joy passed over her face, betraying her emotions until the presence of Cicely snapped her back to reality.

As Cicely turned to leave, she didn't miss the fleeting joy on Danielle's face-a clear answer to an unasked question.

Determined not to linger in the hospital, Cicely left to seek the comfort of home.

Charlie remained with Seth, their sparse conversation strictly business.

Half an hour after Cicely's departure, the door stirred. Charlie, ready to relax, froze as he saw the newcomer.

A respectful woman stood at the door. "Good day, sir. I'm your new caregiver, hired by Ms. Cicely. Please let me know if you need anything."

Charlie sneaked a glance at Seth, whose cold demeanor had turned downright icy.

The caregiver, caught off guard by the chill, looked to Charlie helplessly.

Seth, without comment, asked Charlie about some work-related items, then closed the file and stood up.

Danielle was still in the same position, watching a movie on her tablet.

She looked up with a smile as Seth entered. "Hey, Seth."

Noticing her rigid posture, Seth approached. "Been sitting all afternoon?" Danielle nodded.

Seth moved to lift her, but Danielle refused his help.

"I can ask someone else."

Seth glanced at the maid from the Ellis family. "And who would that be?"

Danielle bit her lip, concerned. "Just be careful about your arm."

Seth's bent posture came to a halt. He straightened up and lowered his gaze to look at her. "How did you know?"

Danielle hesitated, but still said, "Cicely came by this afternoon."

His dark eyes darkened a bit, but he still carefully helped Danielle lie back on the bed.

"How bad is it?"

"It's nothing."

His aloof manner left Danielle at a loss for words.

Cicely didn't return that night, but she called the caregiver to check in.

Seth, overhearing, asked, "What did she say?"

"Not much, just glad you're okay. She insisted I be careful with your arm. She'll come by tomorrow."

Cicely showed up the next day just past noon, finding Seth still in his hospital room.

Cicely's spirit seemed much brighter than the day before-refreshed and brimming with vitality.

She didn't like the hospital, not that there needed to be a reason. No one liked a place like that. "You got some good rest yesterday," Seth remarked casually.

"Not bad." She placed a food container in front of him. "Brought you some chicken soup. It's really good." The caretaker stepped forward, raised the bed table, and laid out the food from the containe, which was

light yet hearty.

Seth eyed the lunch before him, his mood cooling despite the lively Cicely before him today.

"What's wrong? Not to your taste?" Cicely asked.

Seth looked at her. "Why is there only one serving?"

Cicely seemed surprised. "Isn't it enough? I prepared it according to your usual portion. It's definitely not less."

"So, you're not eating with me?"

Cicely hesitated, then it dawned on her that he was being petulant. "Well, I have eaten at home."

Seth's expression darkened, and he pushed the meal away.

"Then I won't eat either."

Cicely was taken aback. "Are you threatening me?"

Seth turned his face away, silent.

Cicely chuckled. "That's your own business, as is going hungry. Do you really think I care?"

Still, Seth remained quiet.

Cicely stared at him for a long while, understanding that this man was not going to budge. Grudgingly, she moved to his bedside, sat down, and picked up the fork beside the plate. "Come on, eat."

The corners of Seth's lips twitched ever so slightly. He turned to her. "How can I eat if you've taken my fork?" Cicely's grip on the fork tightened. She was about to relent and hand it over when he spoke again.

"Perfect, my arm's not quite up to it."

She knew what he was implying. Her lips parted, almost spitting out a retort, but she held back.

"Who fed you yesterday, then?"

"Nobody else is qualified except you."

Cicely couldn't help but laugh.

She hadn't expected such a straight-laced man could be so shameless.

Over the next few days, Seth's injury continued to heal without incident, and soon he was discharged to recuperate at home.

Patty wanted to take care of him personally, but Seth refused, declaring in front of both Patty and Cicely that it was Cicely's duty to care for him.

Patty didn't argue, and neither did Cicely.

Truth be told, Cicely wasn't the nurturing type.

During the days Seth was home, instead of taking care of him, she acted more like royalty.

Creighton fell ill unexpectedly.

Cicely rushed back to the Ellis family estate upon hearing the news.

Isaac explained that ever since learning of Danielle's accident and hospitalization, Creighton had been downcast, which now seemed to be taking a toll on his health.

Arriving home, Cicely found Creighton dozing in a garden chair, basking in the sun with a tea set beside him. To an outsider, he might look the picture of contentment, not someone under the weather, b

ut up close, the pallor of illness was clear on his face, a shadow of unease in his expression that the warm, bright sunlight couldn't penetrate.

"Dad," she called softly. Creighton's brow furrowed, then his eyes slowly opened. "Why are you back?"

"You're not feeling well."

Cicely took a seat opposite him, pouring herself a glass of water.

Creighton couldn't deny it, given that she had come back so soon.

He sighed deeply. "Such a serious accident, it was terrifying."

Other than that, Cicely couldn't imagine what else could have affected his health so suddenly.

"She's okay; it's just a matter of recovery. Whatever the severity, it's all in the past. There's no point dwelling on it. It's meaningless."

Cicely's consolation sounded detached.

Creighton looked at her for a moment. "We're all selfish, myself included."

Cicely didn't understand. "If that's the case, you should be more selfish. Don't worry about things that aren't your concern. Haven't you learned enough over the years? No matter how much you give, what do you get in return?"

"Don't tell me we should be content knowing we did our best. To me, that's just an invitation for others to take advantage of you. If you're content, the other person just takes your efforts for granted. I expect a return for my efforts. Why should I be unconditionally kind to someone else?"

Creighton had been in the business world long enough to understand these raw truths, b

ut precisely because he had experienced life's ups and downs, he believed in treating family even better.

Only family can genuinely care for each other-others never will.

"Don't just comfort me. You shouldn't fuss over some things too much. Everyone has their own unavoidable difficulties. As long as Seth is loyal to you, don't always quarrel with him."

Cicely's lashes fluttered, her arm resting on the chair armrest, her eyes half-closed as she watched the bright, multicolored chrysanthemums blooming in the sunlight, her gaze as distant as her voice. "It sounds like I'm always picking fights with him."

Creighton sighed softly. "I'm asking you to ease up. Everyone knows you're fond of Seth. The more you like someone, the more you care. Anyway, he is yours and he is not above doing something to be frowned upon. As long as you're happy, that's what counts."

Cicely smiled faintly. "You're so sure about him. My trust in him is bound to be greater than yours, Dad. Don't worry; I'll be fine."

Creighton watched her for a while, then nodded silently.

Cicely understood Creighton's concerns.

Father and daughter, after all, their thoughts were often in sync.

In reality, Cicely was no fool, and neither was Creighton.

Since Danielle's accident, a thorn had lodged in their hearts and started to sprout.

Seth's wounds healed, and life returned to its usual rhythm.

Cicely paid off her debts with her job and went back to school, attending classes diligently.

Except on weekends, the two would leave together in the morning, and in the afternoon, there was about a fifty percent chance that Seth would join her for dinner or they would go home together. But now, even that slim chance had disappeared.

As the year drew to a close, every company was swamped with work.

And Seth? He was probably drowning in it.

On the last weekend before the winter holidays, Cicely had made plans to bring Seth lunch at the office.

The weekend crowd was larger than usual, everyone with a grave look painted on their faces as they tackled the tasks at hand. It seemed either something had gone awry, or they had simply bitten off more work than they could chew.

Especially the Finance Department, which was rumored to have been pulling overtime for two straight weeks.

Several department heads were holed up in the conference room with Seth, and according to the hushed tones of the secretaries, the atmosphere seemed tense.

Cicely decided to wait in the office, but before she could even get comfortable, the door burst open. A man strode in briskly, heading straight for Seth's desk.

He halted upon noticing the figure on the sofa, a brief moment of surprise before he collected himself, "Ms. Cicely?"

With a lift of her brow, Cicely watched him, her eyes dancing with curiosity as she propped her chin up with a hand and offered a faint smile, "I don't believe we've met before."

There weren't many who could waltz into Seth's office unannounced. Secretaries wouldn't dare, and only his right-hand man Charlie had such liberties. And judging by how familiar this man seemed with the layout of Seth's desk...

It was odd that she had no recollection of him.

"I'm Shane, Mr. Diaz's assistant."

Cicely's brows quirked ever so slightly, "He let Charlie go?"

Shane, clutching the documents he came for, replied with some urgency, "Charlie is Mr. Diaz's most trusted aide. Mr. Diaz has him on a special assignment at the hospital, looking after someone, which is why had the opportunity to step in. My apologies, Ms. Cicely. Mr. Diaz is waiting for these. I must be going."

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