The next day, Joyce's fetus was stable and she was transferred to the VIP ward early in the morning.

The VIP room was located on the top floor of the hospital, with a large floor-to-ceiling window. When the curtains were open, she could see the entire garden of the hospital, which was quite relaxing. Juanita had gone to work at R&S Group headquarters early in the morning, and Aaron had moved all of Joyce's computers and drawing boards to the VIP ward, as well as some of the documents Joyce needed. The room was set up like a small office.

When Luther pushed the door in, Joyce was lying on the bed, clutching the drawing board in her hand, and concentrating on making changes to her previous design. She was completely unaware that he had entered.

He frowned and strode forward to jerk the stylus out of her hand.

He reprimanded, "Can't you just rest properly? It's just your first day here, what are you doing already?"

"Hey, I haven't even made one stroke just now!" Joyce was upset to see how her pen was suddenly jerked away from her hand, and she showed an extremely dissatisfied expression. It was still a bit before she could finish her design.

"No other strokes to draw after this one? Do you know why you are here? You just can't have a rest? Lie down and rest! No painting today, or I'll ask someone to move all the stuff away." Luther ordered with his cold face.

What the hell ... did it have to do with this man...

Joyce pursed her lips. She was lying in bed, having her IV, and could not bother to argue with him.

"Just trying to kill some time." She grunted.

He gave her a hard stare.

She didn't say another word.

"I brought all your clothes. And here's the porridge I made for you this morning." Luther put Joyce's clothes in the cupboard in her room, and put the stew pot on her bedside.

"I've had breakfast." Joyce was a little surprised inside her heart that he would do these homely things for her. Going home to get her clothes, cooking porridge and serving food, those were like something a husband would do.

For a moment, there was an illusion.

It was as if they were really husband and wife.

Joyce tossed her head. Damn it, what the hell was she thinking?

She was chagrined at her stupid idea just now, and her heart was not comfortable, and with that, the words she uttered were just extraordinarily unpleasant.

"You're not going to see Charlotte, your fiancée? She's pregnant with your child and I heard that she's in the hospital right now. Are you in the wrong hospital, Mr. Warner?"

Luther froze, as if she just poured a pot of cold water over his head, but he could not say anything in return.

"Don't you come back. I agreed with the doctor this morning that I'll check out of the hospital on Friday and we'll meet at the court on time that day to get the divorce papers." Joyce lay back and turned around. "And you take the porridge with you. I ordered a meal and I can't use it. You take it to Charlotte, since she'll need it. Or take it to Shelly. Just whatever you want. You don't have to send anything else, I'll call Juanita if I need anything. Close the door when you go though."

In one breath, she said all the words that she wanted to say, but she did not feel more comfortable inside, but more stuffy.

Luther listened, and his handsome face turned gloomy gradually. The light in his eyes extinguished little by little, until they became dull and colorless.

His fists were tightly closed, and his knuckles were "clucking", as if he was trying to hold back something.

Indeed, it was Shelly's fault that she was lying in the hospital at this moment, and he was also responsible for it.

She was angry, and he understood.

What he couldn't understand was just ... why he just had to come, send her the things she would need and suffered all her harsh retorts. And, what she said, which wasn't really wrong, made him feel particularly depressed, and even he didn't know why he was angry.

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