Before she could even utter the word “leave,” her words were stifled by his Lips.

Mitchel kissed her softly as if taking into account the discomfort in her mouth, He was gentle this time.

Nevertheless, this action brought back memories of their earlier activities in the bathroom, filling Raegan with revulsion. Reacting on impulse, she flung the hot porridge at him.

Mitchel grimaced as the scalding porridge hit him and quickly detached his lips from hers.

Just when Raegan assumed he'd explode with anger, he restrained himself, opened another carton of porridge, and said icily, "Eat.

Otherwise, I'll feed you the way I just did."

Raegan was at a loss.

His current behavior seemed absolutely irrational to her.

Fine. She would eat. If it meant he would leave, she'd gladly consume the porridge.

Head bowed, she ate slowly, every spoonful a reminder of her sore, wounded mouth.

She felt like crying from the pain. But not in Mitchel's presence.

Never in front of him.

Tears would only earn disdain from someone who didn't love you. Why volunteer for more humiliation?

Mitchel retreated to the bathroom and changed his clothes.

When Raegan noticed him retrieving a fresh set of clothes, she was taken aback. Had he planned to stay at the hospital for an extended period?

A caretaker appeared to clear the table after her meal.

Raegan was just about to lie down and rest when Mitchel reached for her mouth again.

With swift reflexes, Raegan smacked his hand away.

Mitchel's expression turned stormy.

Gazing at him warily, Raegan said, "Mr. Dixon, even a tool needs a break."