Please Love Me, Mr. George

Chapter 1107 No need to come back

"If you don't want to meet in this situation, I can go back first." The voice was played softly, but it made

sure Hank could hear it.

No one would want to be seen by their loved one in a lingering state of illness, taking care of his

emotions, everything should be done gradually.

Hank just looked at me, as if time and space were frozen, eyes motionless, lifeless, only next to the

irregularly beating heartbeat meter to prove that he was still alive.

In the world of adults, silence is a euphemism for rejection, and perhaps Hank wasn't ready to see me.

Squeezed a smile on his face and nodded slightly, telling him to take it easy, I can understand his

feelings and will not complain. Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

Just turn around, behind you will ring Gu I knew you would come, sit. Knew you would come, sit."

Deeply inhaled, the heart of despondency and crying are suppressed, to organize the facial expression,

which smiled and walked to the bedside and sat down.

"How are you feeling today? Better?" The words of greeting are always inevitably cheesy, yet watered

down.

"Do you want to hear me say yes or no?" Hank spoke with great effort, yet stubbornly maintained his

self-deprecating expression, not knowing who he was fighting with.

The company's main business is to provide a wide range of products and services to its customers.

Life and death is like a farce, a small injury, instead of being able to heartless lesson rebuke, say a

bunch of words against the heart.

But when you really want to fight with death, but always smiling, telling everyone that it's okay, will get

better, as if this will be able to cheat fate and change fate against the odds, but it's just a trick to

deceive yourself and others.

The more you get to the last minute, the only way to hold on is to deceive yourself.

"Not good." He said extremely loudly, probably using all his strength, and then his voice dwindled

down, "I am very hard and painful and very unhappy."

I knew it was a bet, but I was still sad, my hands moved, not daring to look him in the eye.

"What are you afraid of?" Hank breathed heavily, his warm breath radiating out and turning into a layer

of mist on the respirator's mouthpiece.

"It's nothing." Restraining my heart, I shook my head, trying my best not to let my emotions show on my

face, saying a thousand words of comfort, "Don't you be afraid is right, I've got the world's top doctors,

they'll figure it out, you're Hank, you've come back from the dead three times, it's not that easy to

finish."

I paused to say this, looked up, gently clenched my fist and then pushed Hank on the arm, "Be strong

like a man."

Hank slowly lowered his eyes, looked at the place I touched, the emotions in his eyes still did not

change, silent for a while, before slowly speaking again, "You marry me, I will insist, otherwise, it does

not matter if you go to die now."

"Don't say childish things." Sighing, helplessly apologizing, "You saw it all didn't you, my wedding to

Dennis, Hank, I'm living a good, happy life now, you really shouldn't cling to it anymore, let yourself go,

what belongs to you has actually always been there, you just can't see it."

Hank's gaze is a little lax, as if out of focus, and as if listening carefully, it is impossible to guess his

mind.

"You do not want to hear, I will not say on the line, after every day I will come to see you, personally

take care of you, everything will be fine, do not think too much ......"

The words were just finished when Hank suddenly raised his voice again.

"I want to marry you."

A little unexpectedly, he looked up and met his paranoid eyes.

"You can't refuse me." Hank said coldly, "I became this way because of you. When the Vance family, in

order to control Dennis, decided to skip human experiments and use you directly to verify whether the

radiation could target genetic changes, it was I who traded myself and entered the lab for you, leaving

the present aftermath."

He laughed as he spoke, miserable and weak, and even though his mouth was saying

incomprehensible things, it was impossible to hold a grudge.

"Oh ...... the aftermath of radiation, there is no cure, you owe me that, Clara."

With the same patient, who can really count on anything.

Hank's ability to distinguish his consciousness is diminished by his illness. He just doesn't realize yet

that I'm not the same person I used to be, and that bottomless forgiveness and sympathy will never

work again.

A suffocating silence fell over the ward as he finally reacted to his rejection and slowly lay flat, staring

vacantly at the ceiling.

"It seems that even if I really give my life, you will not look at it more than once, it's not interesting,

really not interesting, it's better to die right away."

When he finished, he stopped talking, and his eyes refused to open as if they were stained with glue.

Complying with the patient's wishes, even if it's just lying, can still serve the purpose of encouragement

as long as the patient's wishes are met.

But Hank is too smart and knows me too well. A well-intentioned lie in front of him is ridiculous and may

even be seen as sympathetic and may backfire, so it's better to be truthful.

And the truth is that I can't promise anything, I can't give.

The people who are good to me and love me, not just Hank, can take my life whenever he wants it, but

I have to live well for the people I love, and I can't hurt another for any of them.

After sitting for a while, Hank didn't know if he was asleep and kept refusing to communicate with me,

so I had to leave first.

"Then get some rest, and I'll see you tomorrow." Getting up, he checked the instruments one last time,

grabbed his handbag, and turned to leave.

The moment I pressed the door handle, Hank called out to me in a hoarse voice.

"Clara."

"Unless you change your mind and want to marry me, you don't have to come back either."

Looking back, he was still quietly in the same position as earlier, as if he had never woken up.

But I know very well that he just did not sleep, and just now the words are not hallucinations, is his

heart, more than ten years of obsession.

The heart said a million times sorry, but did not dare to really say out, all as nothing heard, closed the

door and retreated.

Seeing me come out, Shaw immediately bounced up from his chair and asked with concern, "How's it

going?"

Her two hands were clenched together as if this was the only way to give herself some strength to

support whatever news she was about to hear.

I shook my head, not daring to tell those conversations as they happened, "Not very well."

The mouth is open, and the eyes refuse to open as if they were stained with glue.

Even the patient's meaning, even if it is just a lie, still serves the purpose of encouragement as long as

the patient's wishes are met.

But Hank is so smart and knows me so well that a well-intentioned lie is ridiculous in front of him, and

may even be seen as sympathetic and may backfire.

And the truth is that I can't promise anything, I can't give.

The people who are good to me, the people who love me, not just Hank, he can take my life anytime he

wants, but I have to live well for the people I love, and I can't hurt another for any of them.