When Love Becomes a Cage (Melanie)

"Are you sure?" I was puzzled. Why was it him calling, not someone else?

Warren let out a snort, "With his sweetheart next to him, how could he even think about Mrs. Patterson? Hurry up and come over. Your hubby's acting all weird."

He didn't bother to clarify, just hung up.

Fenton and I stared at each other for a moment before he quickly grabbed his coat.© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

"Melanie, let's move it, chop chop!"

That snapped me out of it, and I followed him as we dashed out of the office.

All the way there, I felt a mix of excitement and anxiety.

I couldn't fathom what Warren meant by Clyde being off.

Aside from going bald and having surgery, what else could be wrong with him?

Could it be facial paralysis due to nerve damage?

Or was it something like Stephen Hawking, where only his head could move, and nothing else?

Lost in my wild guesses, we soon arrived at the hospital.

Everyone was there in the room, and standing next to Clyde was a woman.

She was gently wiping his face, then poured him a glass of water. Clyde looked at her with such tenderness, smiling softly.

In that moment, I just froze, unsure how to enter.

Fenton paused beside me before speaking up, "Rachel, what are you doing here?"

That's when everyone noticed us.

Rachel quickly waved me over, her eyes wide.

"Melanie, come here, quick!"

Her expression was awkward, desperately signaling me with her eyes.

But Clyde just kept looking at her, even reaching out to grab her hand.

Rachel swiftly stepped aside, leaving Clyde looking a bit dejected.

"Sweety, you're not put off by my bald head, are you? Didn't you

being too long or too shortal always complain about my hal

"My hair will grow back in a few days, don't hold it against me!"

I froze mid-step. The one who complained about his hair was me.

Tentatively, I called out, "Clyde."

He turned to look at me, nodding coldly before turning back to Rachel.

"I've been asleep for so long, I could really go for some seafood chowder, Sweety."

His whiny tone sent shivers down my spine.

I was the one who made the

seafood chowder. It was the only thing I could cook, taught by Clyde himself, who told me just to clean the ingredients and boil them. When did Rachel learn to make it?

Rachel looked like she was about to cry, mouthing to me, "Help me." The room's gaze fell on me, Lucia's eyes brimming with mockery.

"Oh, poor thing, thought you had a love

se akehe ages. Turns out he

swnow

up not even knowing who you are

"Can't even recognize his own wife, Clyde, is your brain broken?"

Clyde looked at Lucia, confused.

"Lucia, mind your words, I'm not married yet. But if Sweety is willing, I wouldn't be opposed."

Rachel, on the verge of a breakdown, came to my side, then pointed at me.

"Clyde, look closely, who is she? Take a good look, open your eyes wide."

Nervously clenching my fists, I also looked towards Clyde.

I had imagined a thousand possibilities, including him being paralyzed or disfigured.

But never did I think he'd forget me.

Clyde scrutinized me, visibly annoyed.

"She's Melanie, right?"

A sigh of relief escaped everyone.

But then he added, "Your roommate, right? I know her, always bringing you snacks, that one?"