Lost Me Gained Regret

Chapter 363
Bryant glared at her, his tone heavy with implication, “Don’t you feel like a fifth wheel here?”
Christine dabbed ointment on my skin, concentrating. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Bryant,” I turned to him, “You should leave.”
“I leave?” Bryant glanced outside, his eyes darkening. “Are you off to be someone’s personal blood bank again?”
I knew what he meant. Though the Ford family was reasonable, the Myers mother–daughter duo was a whole different story,
utterly unhinged. They saw me as a thorn in their side, missing no chance to skin me alive if they could.
Bryant relaxed, pulling a chair to sit by the bed, his long legs crossed. “Want some water?” “Sitting there with your legs crossed
like that, who’d dare ask for water?” Still harboring resentments from past events, Christine seized the moment to vent.
Bryant chuckled. “Well, there’s always you, isn’t there?”
“No wonder you’re divorced.” Christine smiled, handing me a glass of water
After the IV, it wasn’t too late. The itching had subsided. When leaving the hospital, I intended to part ways with Bryant and catch
a cab back to the hotel.
But he grabbed me assertively. ‘Till take you back”
“No need for...”
Before I could finish, Bryant took off his coat and draped it over me, then scooped me up over his shoulder with my head down
toward the ground. “You’re running a fever. And the night air will make it worse.”
Christine watched, dumbfounded, whispering to York, “What kind of billionaire romance is Mr. Ferguson acting out?”
Bryant shoved me into the car.
Christine took the passenger seat naturally, and York drove
I was getting annoyed, thinking people just don’t change. Especially him–once that fake calmness wore off, his usual arrogance
and need to control everything started showing up again. Maybe I’d never seen his true face, even to this day

The next day, Christine was busy on the phone with a notebook, calling and jotting down notes. Last night’s clients from the high
society were all for custom orders. We had to schedule fittings and inquire about preferences and styles. Even though they came
for the sake of the Ford and the Myers families, we had to uphold our reputation.
I poured some water to take my medicine when the doorbell rang.
It was Molly. “Hey, I heard about your severe allergy last night. How are you now?”
“I’m okay.” I opened the door wider, about to let her in, when I paused, surprised, “Mark, what brings you here?”
And you’re asking me?” Mark feigned annoyance, “You had such a severe allergy and didn’t even tell me. How are you feeling
now?”
“Much better.” I smiled, letting them in.
It was an executive suite with a living room outside the bedroom.
“What caused the allergy?” Molly asked with concern.
I knew what I was allergic to, so I didn’t discuss it with the doctor at the hospital and just mentioned it was accidental ingestion of
something I was previously allergic to.
I touched the nearly subsided rash. “Food allergy. I must’ve accidentally eaten something with peanuts in it.”
“Peanuts? You’re allergic to peanuts?” Molly’s eyes widened as if she’d stumbled upon a significant revelation.
I nodded. “Yeah, what’s up?”
Molly shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Haven’t taken your medicine yet?” Mark noticed the medicine I hadn’t yet taken on the table, urging me gently, “Take your
medicine first.”
“Okay.” Just as I swallowed the pills and was about to drink some water, Mark suddenly demanded, “Who are you messaging?”
“My brother, just updating him about Jane’s situation.” Not thinking much of it, Molly kept typing on her phone, “He and my dad
had a huge fight last night. Now he’s at home, grounded by my grandfather.”

“You told your brother Jane had a peanut allergy?”
“Yeah.” Molly looked puzzled, “Is that not okay to say?”