Please Love Me, Mr. George

Chapter 984 Breathless

Hearing me call it that, Hank's eyes flashed with momentary surprise, but soon, those gentle eyes were

red with tears.

It feels like the name "fiancé" is something he's been waiting for until just now.

Or rather, it was more like a test for me.

A few moments later, Hank straightened his expression and looked grave as he gave way to the doctor

and nurse who had been guarding the side, "Doctor, do a detailed examination for her."

I frowned in dismay, with an indescribable feeling in my heart.

The coma for many days, call out to the fiancé who stays at the bedside, never leave, is not worth the Content rights by NôvelDr//ama.Org.

joy, but look at his performance, seems to be more surprise than surprise.

The doctor was not surprised, calmly arranged a series of tests, tossed a morning, before giving

nothing constructive conclusions.

"According to the examination results, Miss Kennedy, your body functions are still relatively well

recovered, only due to the lack of oxygen for too long in that accident at that time, resulting in partial

memory loss ......"

The brain is blank, people are inexplicably irritable, and there is little interest in exploring the doctor's

words, fiddling with his fingers with his head down.

I didn't stay idle for a few hours during the examination, facing various machines and constantly trying

to remember the first half of my life with little success. The frustration kept haunting me, as if reminding

me that living like this is incomplete.

"Let's go outside and talk." Hank called the attending doctor to the door and the two closed the window,

talking seriously about the condition, occasionally looking through the glass window in the door panel at

me in the hospital bed, as if the situation was tricky.

The nurse next to me who was preparing to serve my medication was extraordinarily excited, "Miss

Kennedy, you finally woke up, you have been lying for six years, Mr. Gibson has been guarding you for

six years, rain or shine, you do not know, many people in our hospital treat Mr. Gibson as the god of

men, but Mr. Gibson eyes only you, we ah, only envy. We only have the envy."

When Hank was mentioned, the little girl's face flushed fleshily.

Our age is indeed much more mature compared to young nurses, but this is the most charming time for

men, but Hank gentle and affectionate, private crush, in addition to this nurse, probably only more and

less.

I don't know why, ordinary women feel that their fiancé is coveted, even if it's not like a shrew shouting

to swear sovereignty, at least the bottom of the heart should have a trace of sorrow, but I am very calm,

and even smiled with relief, from the heart for Hank liked and happy.

A few moments later, Hank walked in again, handsome and modest face makes people feel good to get

along with, but the feeling of insecurity at the bottom of the heart, but more and more intense.

The nurse was dismissed before he sat down at the bedside and skillfully poured me a glass of warm

water and handed it over.

I took it, warmed it in my hand, looked up and asked, "Are we really engaged?"

He does give me a familiar feeling, but it always seems to be missing something, not yet rising to the

level of intimacy of a couple.

If Hank is really my fiancé, why do I not have any jealous mood swings for him?

Hank smiled faintly, "You think I'm lying?"

"You ......" The ears suddenly flashed the scene of this man waiting day and night, suddenly there is so

a trace of intolerance, the words to the mouth and swallowed, I hurriedly shook my head and changed

my mouth, "No, maybe something has changed, our feelings have gone wrong, otherwise, I should

......"

It was only an engagement, but Hank watched over me for six years when I needed the most care, and

I can say that he had love and loyalty, at least I can be sure that he would not hurt me or seek to

benefit from me.

I have no strong feelings for him, perhaps simply because, once upon a time, our feelings faded.

After all, they are in their thirties, where there is still a strong love and hate.

"That's right, in the past we were too young, made a lot of misunderstandings and almost missed each

other, but after so much experience, we can still keep each other's side, maybe it's because God can't

even look past it and wants to give us another chance, in that case, we should also obey the fate and

start over." Hank's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression was gentle and doting, and he extended his

hand towards me, "Can you give me a chance to take good care of you for the rest of your life?"

Is this, like, a confession?

His smile was so sincere that all my defensive concerns disintegrated in a moment, and I held his

somewhat rough hand in a confused manner, smiling and nodding, "Well."

......

After half a month of recovery treatment in the hospital, the doctor finally approved the discharge.

It was early autumn and the weather was pleasant and comfortable.

I put on a soft fabric jacket with a hospital gown underneath and sat in Hank's passenger seat.

When I stopped for a red light, I smoothed out my hair and brushed it behind my ears.

The red light was a little long, I could not resist the loneliness, Woody rolled down the window, curious

to observe the surrounding situation, feeling familiar and unfamiliar, "I used to be very poor health,

right, must have been in and out of the hospital often, feel this road walked many times."

"Hmm." Hank turned his head, looked at me for two seconds, and then moved his eyes away again, "I

didn't take care of you before, I won't anymore, I won't let you be alone."

Always feel that he has something to say, want to look deeper, but he does not seem to continue to say

the meaning, so I had to give up.

At this time, next to stop a stretch Lincoln, look up on the luxury and noble things, always let people

subconsciously more than a few eyes.

Lincoln's window, however, suddenly rolled down, accompanied by a milky voice, "Fascist! No credit, I

don't want to see you again! Humph! ......"

There is something inexplicably cute about a childish tone of voice saying the harshest things.

Immediately after, we saw the Lincoln window, a five or six-year-old boy poked his head out from

inside, reaching out to climb the window, about to struggle to escape from the car.

The little boy's face is fleshy and still has some baby fat, but his hair is extra ironed and mature, with a

striped suit, like a little gentleman, stubborn little eyes are very agile, born to call Lincoln's reserve.

Seeing half of his body crawled out, I inexplicably followed the tension.

Suddenly, a long, white hand raised behind him, grabbed the boy's collar, carrying a small chicken like,

easily imprisoned the boy in his arms.

The little boy, however, looked at me with fierce, black grape-like eyes, "Mommy!"

The man holding him swept me a slow, deliberate glance, and then motionlessly turned his face away,

"Jamie Vance, in your intellectual opinion, what kind of woman does your father see in me?"

This man is particularly handsome outside, as if his features are carefully carved out of art, especially

the pair of deep eyes, as a deep spring, more than a glance will be swallowed like a person, full of

temptation, but also crisis.

For some reason, the heart sank hard and somehow gasped for air.