Declan Darcy murmured a faint "Mhm" and walked into the bathroom, then carefully carried her out and gently placed her on the bed, tucking her in himself.
The doctor had come, prescribed some medicine to expel cold and dampness, offered a few instructions, and then left.
Throughout it all, Declan Darcy stayed by her side without taking half a step away.
Emma Tremont remained unconscious, and the most anxious person was him.
Everyone else left the bedroom one by one, leaving only him sitting beside Emma Tremont, unmoving.
"In the end, the one who's anxious and heartbroken is still me," Declan Darcy said to himself, watching her, "Emma, what's the sense in our suffering, yours or mine?"
Emma Tremont's face was pale, and Declan Darcy's complexion wasn't much better.
Tonight, it was destined to be sleepless.
Declan Darcy sat beside the bed, supporting his forehead with his hand, and slowly drifted off to sleep.
