My Darling, My Dearest novel Chapter 462

"Then why did you come back so soon? You were angry when I said I didn't want to treat my wound just now. I can tell, so don't try to deny it." Jack's lips had curved into a knowing smile. He was still holding Rachel's hand; she realized with a start that he had begun to slowly and seductively draw circles on the palm of her hand with his fingernail.

Rachel shivered. She could feel goose bumps spreading from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. With a pointed glare, she hastily snatched her hand out of his grasp and tried to calm her racing heart. When she trusted herself to speak again, her voice was cool and aloof. "Jack, how many times have we gone over this? You and I both know this is pointless."

"But if you don't tell me, I'll never know what you're thinking. And if I don't know what you're thinking, well, I'll just have to keep on asking." The secretive smile on Jack's face widened into a grin. It was obvious to Rachel that her feeble protest had fallen on deaf ears.

Frowning slightly, Rachel stood up and threw the gauze in her hand onto the tea table, cool as ice. She said flatly, "You can dress your wound yourself. I'm a little tired, so if you'll excuse me, I'm going upstairs to rest." With that, she turned and stalked up the stairs without another word. Just then, Julie emerged from her room, furiously drying her dripping wet hair with a towel. She was surprised to see Jack sitting on the sofa alone. She asked cautiously, "Is something wrong, Mr. Fu?"

She had been washing her hair in the bathroom when she heard some kind of commotion outside. She had automatically assumed Jack and Rachel had gotten into another argument, and had immediately dashed out of the bathroom with a towel around her wet hair to intervene before things spiraled out of control yet again.

Jack raised his hand to show her the wound that had started to bleed again. He smiled bitterly. "I cut my hand just now. Help me dress the wound, I can't put the gauze on with one hand."

Upon returning to her room, Rachel sat heavily on the edge of her bed, her hand pressed against her chest. She could feel her heart racing, but her elevated pulse had nothing to do with romantic feelings or anxiety or even embarrassment. No, it was none of that: it was, in fact, a deep feeling of unease that was now squeezing the air out of her.

The feeling wasn't new to her. She could still vaguely remember the first time she felt it, a few days before her wedding ceremony with Jack.

Back then, she hadn't taken it seriously. She had brushed it off, only to learn the truth behind her parents' death on the day of the wedding. This time, the feeling of dread coursing through her was worse than the one she had felt before the wedding. A lot worse.

Was something bad going to happen?

Rachel bit her lip. Her right eyelid, which had only just returned to normal a few moments ago, had started twitching again. She reached for the eye drops on the bedside table and squeezed a few drops into her right eye. She shut her eyes, feeling much better, but when she opened them, her right eyelid began to twitch again.

As the saying went, "If your left eyelid twitches, you'll have good fortune. If your right eyelid twitches, a disaster awaits you." The old Rachel would have scoffed at such unscientific nonsense, but after what happened at her wedding, she had begun to believe in it. The fact that she had somehow broken a cup that night and accidentally injured Jack with it did not help her rapidly fraying nerves. These were all bad omens, and she was certain something terrible was about to happen.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door, which was followed by Jack's low voice. "Rachel, may I come in?"

Before Rachel could reply, Jack had already opened the door and stepped inside. The corner of Rachel's mouth twitched. "You came in without waiting for my reply. Why did you even bother asking?"

Jack smiled. "I made you another glass of milk. It's nice and warm, drink it quickly before it gets cold."

"Put it on the table. I'll drink it before I go to bed." Although her voice was calm and aloof, Rachel couldn't help stealing a look at Jack's injured hand. "Is it still bleeding?"

"No, the bleeding stopped." Jack was caught off -guard by her concern. The smile on his face turned into an expression of unconcealed surprise.

There was a moment of silence as Rachel considered what to say next. Finally, she gave in and said, "Well, don't forget to keep your hand dry when you take a shower later."

"I know."

Jack's expression of surprise had, at that very moment, transformed into a goofy, silly grin. He couldn't help it: all the disappointment and frustration he had carried within him had melted away.

Jack rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. How could he have forgotten? He had always known that under the frosty, no-nonsense exterior, Rachel was a sweet, gentle soul inside. Somehow, he had forgotten who he was dealing with and had truly believed that Rachel meant what she had said downstairs. He had believed she did not care about him, and had been on the brink of giving up. He mentally kicked himself for being so stupid. Rachel, on the other hand, was still worried about what her twitching eyelid might mean. She was so worried about it she spent the next three days thinking about it. Time seemed to slow to a torturous crawl as she considered all the possible disasters waiting to happen, and by the end of the third day she felt as though three weeks had passed.

But the days had passed uneventfully. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Life had gone on as usual, and she had not heard of any bad news.

When she was finally convinced that everything was fine, Rachel let out a sigh of relief. She inwardly berated herself for being so

superstitious; her eyelid had probably twitched because she hadn't gotten enough rest.

She was a doctor. She knew perfectly well that it was normal for eyelids to twitch from time to time. Why had she jumped to superstitious conclusions? As a doctor, she really should have known better.

She was reflecting on this when Jack, who was driving her to work, caught her smiling from the corner of his eyes. He asked slowly, "What is it? You seem to be in a good mood today."

"You think so? Well, maybe." Rachel awkwardly scratched at an itch on her earlobe as she tried to think of an excuse. "I was just thinking that tomorrow is the weekend, which means I'll finally get to have a good rest. That's a good enough reason to be in a good mood, don't you think?" "Of course. I feel the same way." Jack reached over and held her hand, silently counting to himself. He got all the way to twenty before she wriggled out of his grip. But he didn't mind in the least. In fact, his lips curved into a smile as he reminded her with a laugh, "Wait for me in your office when you get off work. I'll pick you up."

"Okay." Rachel nodded.

A look of pure adoration flashed across Jack's usually cool and indifferent eyes as he watched Rachel enter the hospital. It was a huge step forward for him: he had managed to hold her hand for a full twenty seconds before she pulled her hand away.