Chapter 1640Although she didn't finish her sentence, the message she wanted to convey was obvious to everyone.
At that moment, the three of them fell silent.
It wasn't until a while later that Caitlin broke it by patting Joyce on the shoulder. “All right now. Don't
overthink it.”
Joyce hummed in acknowledgment. “I know. Anyway, it's getting late. I'm going back in to check if he
has finished his soup and clean up after him.”
“Go on then.” Caitlin nodded.
Joyce subsequently got back to her feet and knocked on the ward door. “Mr. Quinn, it's me. Can I come
in?”
“Go ahead.” Stanley's voice rang out. It sounded calm and didn't carry any hint of resentment.
Consequently, Caitlin and Jonathan exchanged glances with each other.
Caitlin was now convinced that Stanley no longer harbored any animosity toward them.
Despite their curiosity as to what the reason was, they had no intention of asking about it.
After all, they were worried that doing so would anger him.
“Jon, should we go in?” Caitlin asked her husband, to which he shook his head. “No. He blames us for causing the death of his parents. That's why he hates us more than Joyce.
Perhaps his change of heart only applies to her and not us?”
“You're right. Fine, we'll just wait here for her,” Caitlin replied with a smile.
Jonathan didn't comment as he simply held her hand in silent consolation.
Upon entering the ward, the first thing Joyce did was look toward the bed to see if Stanley had finished
his soup.
However, instead of holding a bowl, Stanley had a medical magazine in his hands, taking Joyce by
surprise. “Mr. Quinn, did you not drink the soup?”
When Stanley gestured with his chin toward the bedside table, Joyce spotted the empty bowl on top of
it.
It was evident that Stanley had finished it.
For some strange reason, a sense of delight filled Joyce. Nevertheless, she didn't show it as she
picked up the empty bowl. “Do you want some more, Mr. Quinn?”
Stanley shook his head as he looked at her. “That's enough for me. It was delicious. Did you make it
yourself?”
Joyce looked down to avoid his gaze. “Yes, I did. Thank you.” “I don't remember you knowing how to make soup,” Stanley remarked with one hand supporting his
head.
Joyce hummed in response. “I learned it from my mom and finally got it after failing a few times.”
noveldramaStanley lifted his chin slightly. “Not bad.”
Tilting her head, Joyce had no idea what he meant by “not bad.”
Is he complimenting me for my cooking skills or the fact that I'm learning to cook from Mom?
Without giving the matter much thought, she began clearing the tableware. “Mr. Quinn, I'm going to
wash the bowl. Feel free to call me if there's anything you need.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Stanley grunted in response.
With that, Joyce headed toward the kitchen with the thermal food jar and basket.
As the room was a high-end ward, it was similar to a suite that had its own kitchen and amenities.
It was just that the utensils there didn't look particularly clean. Thus, she had prepared the soup at
home and brought it over instead.
Contrary to cooking, washing up there was a pleasure.
While doing the dishes, Joyce suddenly heard a voice speaking outside. She lightened her movements and turned down the water, allowing her to overhear the conversation.
In truth, it didn't make much of a difference, as all she could pick up was a few words here and there,
such as which surgery was a success and how much recovery time was needed.
In essence, Joyce was clueless to what was going on.
Nonetheless, she figured that he must have called a patient's family member, as he was, first and
foremost, a surgeon. There was no way a patient's family could call him directly to enquire about the
patient's recovery.