Chapter 7

William Johnson didn't say a word. He simply started the car and drove straight toward the hospital.

Emily Smith clutched the seatbelt so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"I'm not going," she said, her voice trembling.

William glanced at her sideways. "Reason?"

"No money," Emily whispered, biting her lower lip.

He scoffed and pressed the accelerator harder.

The car screeched to a halt in front of the emergency room.

Emily shrank into her seat like a frightened rabbit, refusing to move.

"Get out," William ordered.

She shook her head, her fingers twisting tighter.

William narrowed his eyes. "Don't want the BestTech offer anymore?"

Emily's head snapped up, her eyes reddening.

The next second, William leaned over, roughly unbuckled her seatbelt, and scooped her into his arms.

"Put me down!" Emily struggled.

Ignoring her, he kicked the car door shut with one long leg.

"It really doesn't hurt anymore..." Her voice grew smaller.

"Shut up," William said coldly.

After examining the report, the doctor adjusted his glasses. "Minor soft tissue bruising. Just apply heat when you get home."

Emily exhaled in relief and started to stand—

"Doctor!" Her face suddenly flushed crimson.

William turned to leave, but a small, cold hand tugged at his sleeve.

"I..." Her voice was barely audible. "I think it's... my period."

The examination room fell silent.

The doctor nodded in understanding. "No wonder you're in so much pain! Young lady, you need to keep warm next time."

Emily curled into a ball, sweat beading on her forehead from the pain.

William's expression darkened, but he still went to get the medication.

When he returned, he carried a cup of hot water.

Emily took it with trembling hands, flinching slightly when her fingertips accidentally brushed his.

"Thank you," she murmured, taking small sips.

William wordlessly handed her the painkillers.

After taking the medicine, Emily still didn't move.

"Something else?" William asked impatiently.

Her ears burned red. "Can you... buy me... sanitary napkins?"

William froze.

After a long pause, he turned and walked away.

Emily watched his retreating figure with a bitter smile.

Ten minutes later, just as she was about to leave on her own, a familiar silhouette appeared at the end of the corridor.

William strode toward her, a bulging black plastic bag in hand—his tailored suit a stark contrast to the cheap bag.

"Here." He averted his gaze, the tips of his ears faintly pink.

Emily took the bag, their fingers brushing for a fleeting moment. Both of them stiffened.

Inside were not just sanitary napkins, but also heating pads and brown sugar.