Matthew's face darkened at this eyesore. When he was in a mood like this, he seemed to give off an uncanny aura that lowered the temperature in the room.
The driver, who was still inside the house, turned at the sound of the door. Seeing Matthew approach, he nodded respectfully.
"Mr. Matthew!"
Only then did Erica realize that her husband was back.
Joy flashed through her eyes, but when she saw the man's cold expression, her memory of the unhappiness between them a few days ago came rushing back. Sobered at once, she silently went back to spraying
Watkins' wound with the disinfectant.
Just steps away, Matthew came to a stop and took in the exceptionally unhappy scene before him.
When the two men's eyes met, Watkins spoke first and awkwardly extended his hand, smiling.
“Hello.”
He was quite embarrassed when Matthew ignored him entirely, neither responding nor shaking his hand.
Erica left off with the disinfectant and said, “Well, it‘s no good to spray any more. Your wound is too deep, and you really need to go to the hospital."
“Well, thanks anyway." As soon as Watkins said this, his phone rang and he answered it.
"Hello? Yeah, I'm here. Yes, I'm on my way now."
With that, he put the phone away and got up.
“Erica, thank you very much," he said emphatically.
“I'm sure you've saved my life, and I will repay you someday. But my friend is here, so I'll be going now.”
Erica waved her hand.
"You don't need to repay me. Just get going. And please, don't delay in going to the hospital."
“ALL right."
Saying this, Watkins turned toward the door, but just then a spasm went through him, and his knees wobbled. Without thinking, Erica caught him by the arm.
“Are you okay?"
The atmosphere in the living room was thick with awkwardness as Matthew stood by, silent and ignored.
Despite doing nothing, his presence was enough to put a lot of pressure on Watkins.
The injured man quickly freed himself from Erica's grip, his face frozen in a nervous parody of a smile.
“I'll be fine. I'm sorry to disturb you at this late hour. Goodbye!"