The Enticing CEO's Chosen Bride novel Chapter 1806

Rose was taken aback, staring at Morrison for a long while. Her mouth opened and closed, utterly at a loss for words.

She replayed his words over in her mind dozens of times, but the answer eluded her. So did Morrison actually like her or not?

"Dislike her and still fancy her? Men."

Men were all the same. Morrison was no exception.

"Wife...show-off...flirting..."

Eventually, he just blurted out the words one by one. Rose could string them together, but she was flaunting...flirting?d2

In her current state, she must have been at her most unglamorous ever. Pregnant with a protruding belly, devoid of any curves to speak of, her face was mostly bare except for minimal makeup for work. At home, she never bothered much with her appearance.

Lately, she'd been as natural as can be, just doing whatever felt comfortable. Compared to her past self, even her school days, she didn't stand a chance. What was there to flaunt or flirt about in front of him now?

But the word "wife" in his mouth still caught her attention.

She pursed her lips and burrowed her head back into Morrison's chest. Considering he still knew she was his wife, she decided not to hold it against him today.

Not that she could, even if she wanted to. He was so groggy right now, he probably had no idea what he had said earlier. She regretted not recording it to play back to him the next day, just to see his expression.

Drowsiness overtook her, and she yawned, snuggling into Morrison's embrace and closing her eyes.

If there was one skill she'd honed during pregnancy, it was controlling her emotions, adjusting her mindset to not let anything get to her.

Morrison said he disliked her, but he also said he liked her. She'd just go with the latter. It made her happier.

--

The next morning, Rose woke up early.

Morrison was still asleep. She carefully extracted herself from his arms, but the next second, she was enveloped in a tight embrace from behind. "Go back to sleep."

Rose stiffened. "I... I need to go home for a bit. You need breakfast. I'll make some oatmeal for you."

Morrison's brow creased, still with his eyes closed. "Call the assistant to bring it over."

"That won't do. Store-bought gruel won't be good for you. Go back to sleep."

He refused to let go.

"Morrison..." Rose urged him gently but firmly.

Finally, Morrison suddenly tossed the covers off.

"What are you doing?" Rose quickly covered him again.

Morrison looked at her, his face grew pale, showing signs of sickness, but his grip didn't loosen. "Rose." His voice was weaker than before.

"Do you know why I'm in the hospital right now?"

Rose pressed her lips together, "Acute gastritis."

Morrison took a shallow breath, "And who caused it?"

Without hesitation, Rose replied: "You."

Taking a deep breath, Morrison suddenly clutched his stomach, agitated, "It was you who caused it!"

Rose's expression was blank. "How so?"

"Weren't those dishes made by you?!"

"I made what you like, but last night you insisted on fighting over the rest. Why be macho when you can't handle spicy? If it's self-inflicted, how can it be anyone else's fault?"

Morrison hadn't expected the caring, delicate woman from last night to turn into someone so argumentative. Couldn't she see he was a patient and cut him some slack?

His face grew gloomy. "Rose, are you hearing yourself? I'm a patient here. Do you want to push me over the edge?"

"Even patients need to be reasonable."

Morrison glared at her fiercely, "If it wasn't for you inviting that rumored boyfriend over for dinner without telling me first, would I be in this state?!"

Rose took a deep breath, "Alright, alright, it's my fault. I shouldn't have invited Winston over without consulting you first, and I shouldn't have prepared an entire feast, it's my fault you ended up in the hospital. So, can you now let me go home and cook for you?"

"Rose, I can tell you didn’t mean it."

Rose's expression turned serious, "I'm sorry. Truly."

Morrison huffed, holding her hand, his look more pitiful, "Good to know. So to prevent future hospital visits, you know what to do, right?"

Rose nodded, "I will never put chili in your dishes again."

Morrison gritted his teeth, "No, it means you're never to meet Winston privately again."

Rose gave him an odd look, then snickered. "Why? You're not jealous, are you?"

Morrison narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing her, "Don’t flatter yourself."

Rose's smile faded, as she became earnest. "I can't avoid Winston. He's the spokesperson I hired, and the company needs him. Besides, we're friends. If he wants to see me, I can't just ignore him."

"Rose," Morrison's voice chilled, "you're trying to finish me off."

Rose: "Why would dealing with Winston be harmful to you?"

She seriously suspected that Morrison had overheard the doctor's conversation with her last night.

Morrison studied her for a long moment before his brow furrowed with pain. Rose's expression changed, and she leaned in closer, "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"My stomach hurts so much."

"Just wait, I'll call the doctor."

Without giving Morrison a chance to speak, Rose dashed out of the room in a panic.

The doctor was practically pushed in by Rose. After a brief examination, the doctor cast a doubtful look at Morrison, "It doesn't seem too serious."

The conversation was halfway through when Morrison's icy gaze shot over like an arrow, causing the doctor to swiftly change his tone. "Stomach ailments are among the most challenging conditions we face in this hospital. They can stem from a variety of causes—late nights, excessive drinking, eating icy or spicy foods, or even stress. It requires a great deal of self-discipline and cooperation from the patient. If the patient doesn't work with us, we're at a loss. I strongly suggest rest and attention to all these factors. Otherwise, you risk exacerbating the condition and possibly facing irreversible consequences."

After his spiel, the doctor glanced at Morrison, who nodded in solemn agreement. "Indeed. I believe my stomach pain flared up because I got upset just now."

The doctor cleared his throat and turned to Rose with a forced stern expression. "Ma'am, I hope you can be mindful of the patient's emotional state. Patients tend to be quite sensitive, and it's best not to provoke them—especially while they're hospitalized."

Morrison coughed weakly at his side, his brow furrowed with the visage of suffering.

Who was provoking him?

Rose felt aggrieved inside, but the doctor's words had sent shivers down her spine. Especially the part about how easily stomach disorders could worsen had drenched her in cold sweat.