Chapter 1361:

In the kitchen, Melany caught their exchange and nearly let the meat she was cleaning slip from her hands. She steadied herself with a breath and kept washing it under the running tap, letting the sound of the water cover the voices drifting in from the next room.

Once the meat was set to boil on the stove, Melany dried her hands, returned to the living room with a medical kit, and pulled out a thermometer. She held it out to Deandre, her tone flat and detached. “Check your temperature. Don’t go fainting or overheating in my home — I’m not paying for any of it.”

She expected him to take it with his hand. Instead, he leaned forward and held it gently between his teeth, barely grazing her fingers in the process.

She withdrew her hand immediately, expression cooling another degree. Without a word, she turned on the television and switched it to a children’s channel for Evelina.

A moment later, the thermometer gave a soft beep.

“102 degrees Fahrenheit?” Melany’s voice faltered slightly. “Deandre…”

She nearly snapped at him — asked if he had a death wish — but held it back. She wasn’t about to let him realize she was worried.

“Do you understand what a 102-degree fever means?” She set the thermometer on the table, keeping her voice controlled. “It means you should be in a hospital bed on an IV drip, not sitting outside someone’s door putting on a pitiful act.”

𝖲𝘵o𝗋іе𝗌 уоu 𝘄𝘰ո’t р𝘂𝗍 𝖽𝘰𝗐n 𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘢𝗅n𝗼vе𝘭𝘀.𝗰𝘰𝗆

Deandre sank back against the couch cushions. A thin sheen of perspiration had formed across his brow, his lips dry and cracked — yet that faint smile still lingered on his face.

“I know,” he said hoarsely. “But a hospital bed doesn’t feel as good as your couch.”

Melany held his gaze for a brief moment, finding no reply worth giving. Accepting that he had no intention of leaving regardless of what she said, she turned back to the medical kit and took out medicine for fever and inflammation.

“Take these first,” she said, pressing two tablets from the strip onto the table alongside a cup of warm water.

Deandre reached for the cup, but the moment his fingers made contact, his body swayed and he nearly slid off the couch. Melany reacted at once, pressing him firmly upright with one hand, her expression still unreadable as she placed the tablets in his mouth and handed him the drink.

Her movements were brisk, almost rough — yet the brief contact stirred an unexpected warmth in him. He swallowed the medication without resistance and took a slow sip of water. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice ragged.

“The fever should come down in about thirty minutes. Once it does, you leave.” Melany set the glass back on the table and returned to the kitchen.

Evelina slipped off the couch, disappeared into her room, and came back clutching a soft, fluffy blanket. “Here,” she said, draping it over Deandre’s legs and tucking it neatly around him. “It’s really cozy. Whenever I catch a cold, it helps me feel so much better.”

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