Ex-Husband’s Love Dilemma by Jean Oscar ( Cassandra Jackson )

Chapter 6 

Orlando’s voice held an endearing softness as he attempted to comfort Rebecca. “You’re not ugly, Rebecca. You’re just getting better. Stay strong, okay?” 

“Really? So, you won’t start disliking me?” Rebecca’s hopeful tone infused a fresh wave of sweetness into her 

voice. 

Without a second’s hesitation, Orlando reassured, “Of course not. Let’s get you better first, and then we can talk about marriage.” 

“Really? You’re not just saying it to make me feel better, right?” Rebecca’s voice echoed a mix of excitement and anticipation. 

“No, I mean it. Now, let’s get some food into you,” Orlando directed his attention to the nearby food tray. 

“Landy, I love you,” Rebecca confessed, her whispery words held a melodic charm. 

Unseen by them, Cassandra stood outside their door. She caught their entire conversation. A bitter smile adomed her lips as her eyes welled up with unseen sorrow. She didn’t intend to eavesdrop, but she felt it better she gave them their space, rather than intrude on their tender moment. 

As soon as their conversation concluded, she knocked on the door. 

“Come in,” Orlando’s voice, cold as ever, invited her in. 

As Cassandra pushed the door open, she was met with a sight she half–expected. Orlando was standing by Rebecca’s bed, sporting the same attire he wore when he left Dustmeadow Mansion. That was proof enough; he had spent the night with Rebecca in the hospital. 

His handsome features wore a blank expression, his eyes devoid of any warmth as they met hers, akin to greeting a stranger. 

Instinctively, C. fra clenched her fists, halting her steps. 

Right then, Rebecca’s voice broke the silence. “Cassandra, I’m glad you’re here. I’m sorry for the trouble you had to go through to bring me clothes. Come, sit here.” 

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Chapter 6 

Hearing Rebecca’s voice, Cassandra lowered her gaze. 

Rebecca looked frail, her face a pale color, her shoulder–length hair lying limp on her shoulders. Perhaps due to her long stint in the hospital, she seemed delicate to a degree where the first instinct would be to protect her. 

She was having poached eggs for breakfast, considering she was on a soft diet due to her recent recovery. 

The strong aroma of the eggs hit Cassandra’s nostrils, causing her to scrunch her face in discomfort. An unwelcome wave of nausea hit her. She felt her stomach churn uncomfortably as if something was threatening to surge upward. The next thing she knew, she was clutching her mouth, fighting back a retch. 

A palpable silence enveloped the room. 

“What are you doing?” Orlando cast an icy stare. 

A disheartened Rebecca spoke up, her voice barely a whisper. “Cassandra, do you find me disgusting in this 

state?” 

Cassandra managed to choke down her nausea. A cold air radiated off her as she replied calmly, “It’s just the smell of the disinfectant that doesn’t sit well with me.” She walked over, the bundle of clothes in hand, making a slight effort not to breathe in the disconcerting mix of egg and disinfectant. “These are the clothes your requested. All brand new.” 

Rebecca swiftly reached to accept the items, and the surprise brightened her face. “Cassandra, you’re too kind. You’ve even managed to pick my favorite style.” 

“Her favorite style? So, the quarterly clothing replacements in the walk–in closet back at Dustmeadow Mansion 

were all for her?‘ A bitter thought crossed her mind. Cassandra glanced at Orlando, her eyes seething w disappointment and derision. 

Carrying out an air of frosty indifference, she asked, “If there’s nothing else, can we talk?” 

Caught off guard, Rebecca blurted out hurriedly, “Cassandra, did I upset you? I know you’re Landy’s wife now. It wasn’t right for me to call him out late last night, but I…” A trail of tears slipped down her cheeks as she whispered be 1 sobs, “… I didn’t want to either, but I was left with no choice. The only person I can count on in Broburgh is Landy. I…” 

“Rebecca, stop. Didn’t the doctor tell you to rest and avoid undue stress?” Orlando rushed to her. He wore a deep worry on his face as he tried to pacify her. 

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