I quickly remembered who she was—the young woman who had found me yesterday when I collapsed. “Zia Monre,” I said.

She seemed surprised that I remembered her name. She smiled brightly, “You actually remember my name? I saw you faint, so I brought you to the hospital.”

I felt a rush of gratitude, recalling what had happened before I passed out. “How much did this cost? Let me pay you back right away. I really appreciate it.”

She didn’t ask me for a vague figure. Assuming it couldn’t be that small an amount, she asked for the full bill and I ended up transferring an extra thousand as a token of thanks. When she saw the amount, she hesitated a bit before accepting it. I reassured her a few more times, and only then did she finally feel comfortable receiving the money.

“Mr. Tate, it’s like you have a stomach issue. You should probably get a thorough check-up,” Zia kindly suggested.

I lowered my head and rubbed my stomach, feeling a lingering, dull pain. In my past life, I died from stomach cancer, a pre-existing condition. A male doctor entered with some medicine. I hoped this wouldn't happen again.

In my previous life, I hardly had any interaction with him, but in this one, I kept running into him.

“How are you feeling now? Any stomach discomfort?” Randall asked as he placed the medicine on the bedside table.

I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at him. “Much better,” I said, “and I have no intention of going through that suffering again.” So, Randall promptly checked my stomach and asked about the pain. His eyes softened, and the coldness and distance that had been there before disappeared. His mask had slipped slightly.

Zia took a couple of steps forward and helped him adjust his mask, a gesture that seemed unusually intimate.

Wait, something was off. I suddenly remembered that Randall had a girlfriend. Could it be...?

“Are you two a couple?” I asked.

Both of them seemed caught off guard. Randall’s face flushed slightly red as he responded, “We’ve been together for two…”

I genuinely admired them. “You two make a great couple.”

But then, I couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for them—as sweet and affectionate as they were, if Yvette stepped in, things would take a turn for the worse…

In my previous life, I had no connection to either Randall or his girlfriend; I didn’t even know her name. Yet, somehow, this time around, I found myself entangled with both of them. And, strangely, the relationships seemed to be going well.

Randall, usually so composed and distant, now had his ears completely red.

Zia suddenly said, “Oh, by the way, he’s the artist I told you about. He’s the one I almost ran into yesterday. He’s really nice—don’t blame him, alright?”

Randall looked at me slowly, clearly surprised, and asked, “Were you the patient who got scalded at the water station?”

He then carefully checked my hand, his expression serious but gentle. “You’re healing well. It’s all thanks to the quick treatment you received.”

No wonder Yvette liked him—he was kind and gentle. I even started to feel affection for him.

I smiled faintly. “Thanks, doctor.”

After a brief chat, I went to send the payment for my checkup. I always knew my health wasn’t very good, and I didn’t act recklessly, so I should be fine.

I had caused this problem myself—skipping meals out of anger, not taking care of myself, and neglecting my health. Over time, my stomach condition had worsened, eventually leading…

I would take better care of myself, eat regularly, and stay calmer in the future.

Some of the test results came back quickly. I grabbed them and went back to my room to show Randall. Zia, noticing my dry mouth, kindly poured me a cup of hot water.

As was used on the report. I didn’t realize the cup of water she handed me was burning hot. I reflexively dropped it, and the scalding water splashed onto Randall’s hand. He instinctively jerked his hand back, and the test results fell to the floor with a snap.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to!” I exclaimed, immediately reaching out to help him, but before I could touch him, I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my shoulder as I was shoved aside.

Then, the next thing I knew, I had crashed to the ground. My right hand hit the floor, sending a sharp pain through my body. I groaned in discomfort.

I looked up to see Yvette, dressed stylishly, grabbing Randall’s hand as they hurried toward the restroom.

Moments later, the sound of rushing water filled the room, and I could hear her anxious voice. “How’s your hand? Does it hurt?”

Randall shook his head and replied calmly, “It’s better now.”

The bathroom glass was slightly translucent; I couldn’t make out the details. Even so, I could see blurry figures moving and hear a panicked voice I’d never heard before, filled with…

I sighed and struggled to pull myself up, shifting my weight to support myself. Zia seemed stunned but quickly helped me to my feet. “Mr. Tate, are you okay?”

My hand was all sore, but it wasn’t a big deal.

The sounds from the bathroom stopped, and they came out, glancing at me in surprise. She hadn’t expected the person she’d just pushed to be me. Her eyes then fell on Zia, who was still holding me up, and her expression immediately darkened.

Looking displeased, she glared at Yvette. “Who are you? Why did you push him? And why were you holding Randall’s hand?”

At this moment, Randall stepped forward and stood beside Zia, softly explaining, “This is Mr. Tate, the one who funded me. You were being a little harsh.”

Then he looked at me with an apologetic expression: “Are you hurt?”

I traded a glance with Zia. Yvette was the one who supported Lan? That explained the strange dynamics between them.

Zia’s anger cooled slightly, but she still seemed unhappy. She coped with Yvette’s expression better than I did. With a cold tone, she said, “What’s the point of talking…”

Zia, still upset, hurriedly took Randall to the office to treat his hand.

Soon, the room was left in a tense silence, just me and Yvette. The underlying tension was palpable.

A “shush” was heard followed by a push. Then she grabbed his hand… His hand is hers, and as his girlfriend, shouldn’t you be taking care of him?

Chapter 10: Awkward Situation

“Owen, are you satisfied now?” Yvette’s voice was filled with anger.

I rubbed my still-sore wrist, looking at her in confusion. “What should I be satisfied with?”