Douglas tightened his lips, feeling there was no way out.
He wanted to refuse, but before he could speak, Margaret forcefully spoon-fed him some soup. Her actions were rough, the spoon hitting against his teeth and almost poking his throat.
Out of instinct, he gulped down the soup without even tasting it.
"You... cough cough..." Douglas struggled to speak, choking on the soup. He sat up, holding his hand in front of him. "Don't feed me. Just leave it on the table, I'll drink it myself."
Margaret didn't force him, sighing in disappointment as she put down the spoon. "It'll be uncomfortable if it gets cold, and the efficacy of the calming medication will decrease."
Douglas's tone was icy. "I'll drink it as soon as possible. Thank you for your trouble."
Margaret knew he wouldn't drink it.
