Chapter 37
Joy tucked her phone away and leaned against the door, arms folded, giving her the once-over. “And who might you be?”
Selina shot her a sidelong glance. “I could ask you the same.”
With a flip of her hair, Joy declared, “I’m her husband here.”
“Please,” Selina’s smirk was a masterclass in disdain. “Are you her husband? You mean you’re Cur…”
Before she could finish, a cookie was shoved into her mouth, silencing the rest of her
sentence.
Leanne’s voice was firm. “Zip it. Back to your room, or you can kiss pain relief goodbye.”
Selina was speechless.
For the first time in her life, she felt cornered and had no choice but to submit. When the pain in her eyes flared up, it was unbearable!
Leanne had warned that the painkiller should be used sparingly, giving it to her only when she was absolutely desperate, begging like a child for just one drop of relief.
With her mouth begrudgingly shut, Selina seethed, “Fine, I won’t ask. But this is personal revenge!”
With time to kill and fully aware that Amy wouldn’t dare harm her, Joy leisurely walked over to Selina’s wheelchair, giving it a spin to face the other direction.
“Which room is she in?” she asked, “I’ll help you wheel her back.”
Amy’s gratitude was palpable. “Room 23!”
“Let go of me.” Selina’s voice boomed as she was unceremoniously pushed out of the office. “Let go or do you want a smack?”
Joy retorted, “Bring it on. Let’s see who slaps harder.”
Their noisy journey back to the hospital room ended with Joy trying to hoist Selina onto the bed against her will, while Selina clung to the wheelchair for dear life. Eventually, Joy -overpowered her in one swift move.
Selina was livid.
“I just want to know why she married Curtis. What’s the big deal? I’m just curious. She’s gorgeous and brilliant. Why not choose a decent guy? Curtis is a total loser, not worthy of her!”
Joy paused her rough handling, pointing a finger at Selina as if to say, “Good point, you’ve
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got taste.”
Then, she plopped down onto a nearby chair.
“Let’s talk turkey!”
After Selina left, Amy queried, “Why’s she been bothering you so much these days?”
Leanne shrugged it off. “She’s got the curiosity of a child.”
“Actually, we’re all pretty curious about you and your hubby,” another colleague chimed in. “Why all the secrecy?”
Maybe it was the repeated mentions of Curtis, Leanne was starting to feel irritated, the words on the medical charts blurring before her eyes.
“Because he’s not exactly easy on the eyes,” she said.
“Wait, so he’s ugly then?” The other person sputtered.
“Yep.” Leanne didn’t even look up. “He’s five foot nothing, bald with a beer gut.”
There was an awkward silence.
When Leanne finished up and went to replace Joy, she found the pair deep in conversation within the private room.
“The Richardson family took Leanne in and everyone praised their noble hearts. Noble my foot!” Joy was practically spitting with passion. “After Leanne’s parents passed, the Richardson family didn’t care about her at all. It was only after that journalist’s story broke, afraid of looking ungrateful, that they bothered to bring her back.”
“Rich guys don’t have a bit of conscience,” Selina chimed in, conveniently forgetting her own father was one of those rich guys.
“The only one with a bit of conscience in the Richardson family is Mary. I heard she’s Christian, which probably means she’s kind-hearted.”
Joy shook her head with a knowing smirk. “Mary is no saint.”
“Don’t talk about Mary behind her back. She’s been good to me,” Leanne cut through their gossip session.
They both turned to see Leanne at the door, not upset, but ready to leave. “Had enough chit-chat? Let’s go.”
“Hey, wait!” Selina protested like someone had turned off her favorite show just as it was getting good. “You haven’t finished the story!”
Joy, too, was reluctant to end the conversation. After all, as Leanne’s sole supporter in a lonely battle, she had finally found a kindred spirit and was eager to bring Selina into the fold.
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“Heh, I could go for more chat.”
Leanne quipped, “Weren’t you hungry?”
Joy, usually all about her meals, shrugged it off. “Missing one meal won’t kill me.”
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