Sweet Twins novel Chapter 71

"Jay...is that right?" his mother, Jennie Tan, asked with a hint of surprise. It was no secret to her that Jay was a womanizer, playing and breaking women's hearts as though they were nothing but toys. But even with that Casanova demeanor, he had never brought a woman home or lest introduced one to her. And that was why, as a mother, she was able to tolerate that kind of behavior. However, now that he was secretive as though he was some kind of criminal, Jennie Tan needed to know why.

Hearing it from Jay's sister, Sarah, was enough to tickle Jennie Tan's curiosity towards Jay's recent involvements.

"Jay," she repeated with a pair of skeptic eyes. With a heavy sigh, she uttered in a cautious tone, "Is that true? What your sister said... are you really––" "Really, mom? Don't listen to Sarah and her nonsense!" And with that, Jay didn't think twice to rush outside, exposing himself to the raging rain while Jennie and Sarah could only watch him silently. Darkness gradually embraced his figure as he walked away until he was finally out of sight.

Sarah put her hand on her mother's left shoulder while resting her chin on the softness of the right one. Shaking her head gently, she heaved an audible and childish sigh. "Let him be, mom. He'll be fine. I guess... he's just really in love." A chuckle escaped her lips as she spat those words. "Can you believe that? My brother... in love? Ha!"

As Jennie Tan heard her last words, she playfully messed the latter's hair. "Now Sarah, mind your own business," she scolded her but in a manner that suggested motherly affections. "You're not a young girl anymore. You should learn not to concern yourself with other people's affairs, especially your brother's."

"I'm still young! And if it were up to me, I wouldn't even get married! I'd rather stay with you and Dad!" Sarah pouted playfully, but she felt her cheeks flushed.

Unbeknownst to Jennie Tan, her daughter already had someone special in her heart.

And although she was in love, it was, unfortunately, unrequited. She felt it was not yet the right time to talk about it.

One of her seniors was lucky to capture her heart, considering how picky she was with boys.

While Sarah fought the urge to talk about her secret, a catastrophe welcomed Jay's sight when he arrived at the apartment.

The books, probably knocked off from the shelves by the blowing wind, were floating like rafts on the murky rainwater. Even the shoes suffered the same fate, too, although they were more likely to be salvageable. And the clothes were drifting around like they were celebrating to be put in a big dirty laundry machine. Everything was just in chaos!

And to top this disaster, Jay immediately found Doris in the corner, trembling and seemingly in slight fear. Obviously, the situation was graver than he had imagined.

Hurriedly, he strode towards her with a face as grim as the sky outside. Amid the tapping of the rain, he managed to let out, "This is serious, Doris! Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"

She couldn't meet his eyes, embarrassed at her current situation. "For what? It's no use telling you." Doris' voice was utterly devoid of emotions, even her face too.

A spark of irritation rose in his chest as he heard her remark. "You..." Just as he was about to retort, he noticed her skin getting paler than usual while her lips trembled. Suddenly he found himself unable to lash out any harsh word. Instead, he stood quite still, eyeing Doris for few minutes with his lips pressed into a thin line. And then he fished out his phone, dialed a number and ordered Hanson, his bodyguard, to bring some people, tools and glasses.

After that, he gently offered Doris the crook of his arm to assist her on the couch.

The touch of her palm was winter cold against the warmth of Jay's skin.

"Alas!" Jay, who never knew what melancholy was, sighed wistfully. Although Doris was a usually carefree person, she appeared too weak and frail now––something that Jay found bothersome. He was not used to seeing her ripped of such high energy.

"If I hear you sigh again, I will make you leave," Doris threatened, obviously hating the fact that she was exposing her vulnerability. But Jay found it hard to take her seriously when she sounded so fragile and cold.

Despite this, Doris still set her guard up, which might not be a good thing. Sometimes, it was advisable for a woman to show her weakness to a man who, in turn, would be aroused by his desire to protect her.

"How dare you!" He knew that she was only acting spiteful as a facade. So instead, he ignored Doris' grumbles and threats, got a towel from the top of a drawer, and ordered her to dry herself.

It wasn't long until Hanson arrived with the tools and people needed to fix the house.

As soon as he stepped inside the apartment, Hanson immediately searched for his boss, finding him squatting beside a crazy-looking woman.

He had never seen Jay in such a seemingly gentle position with a woman before.

"Hanson?" Jay noticed him stiffened as if the latter had caught him doing something wrong. "Why are you looking at me like that? Don't just stand there! Hurry and fix the windows!" Jay commanded while a rush of hot blood tinted his cheeks.

"Okay, sir." Hanson grinned only to forcefully close his mouth again as he was afraid that a burst of laughter will come out from it.

Meanwhile, Doris, who was quiet the whole time they were waiting, sniffed, and managed to let out a small, "Thank you."

"See? That wasn't so hard to say, wasn't it? That's what a woman should be like," replied Jay. He couldn't help the small curve of a smile forming on his lips.

"I just don't want to be ungrateful. You help me, and it's only fitting that I thank you for that. But that's just it, don't overthink."

"What?" he asked, evidently taken aback. Jay found nothing wrong with what he said, so he was befuddled with Doris' response.

"I'm not like those women around you...you can't flirt with me," she defended herself, keeping an indifferent face.

"What?" Jay blinked back as her words were slowly sinking in. When he finally made sense of what she meant, a sneer played on his lips. "Doris, come on! It's not what I meant! I'll fix your home for you. After that, I'll leave at once! Nothing more, nothing less!"

Although they fought the last time they were together, Jay saw this as a chance to mend whatever they had. Perhaps they were destined to continue what they began.

When not together, they longed for each other's presence. Yet, when they were within at arm's length, they couldn't help but argue even with the most mundane and petty things.

"Just leave! I couldn't stand you being here!" Doris spat impatiently.

If it were the past, he would have definitely left. But now, the situation was different. So instead, he just went to check on Hanson, who was busy fixing the window.

As the night drifted towards oblivion, Doris found comfort on the old couch. Its softness welcomed her tired and battered body while the rhythmic beating of the hammer oddly sounded like a lullaby to her ears.

Soon enough, the exhaustion wrapped its finger on her consciousness and swayed her to deep sleep.

At this time, Charles and Nancy had arrived at a homestay hotel.

The power failed to stay alive amid the raging typhoon, leaving the rest of the place in utter darkness.

There was only one bed in the room, and it was covered by a thick and color-faded quilt––something that Charles was not used to. And being a gentleman, he decided to let Nancy use the bed.

Instead, he chose to lay down on the sofa, no matter how small and lumpy it felt under his body.

As the night seeped on, Nancy felt unwell. An unbearable chill penetrated her bones even though the thick blanket tightly wrapped her body. And as she tried to put herself to sleep, she prayed for the typhoon to end and for tomorrow to come quickly.

Although her eyes were completely shut, her mind was filled with vivid images. One of these was a picture she couldn't forget, no matter how much she forced herself to. It was the image of Flora, looking so violent.

On the other hand, Charles' lack of sleep last night was demanding to be paid today. So, as soon as he closed his eyes, he was already knocked out on the couch.

But sometime in the middle of the night, when he was sound asleep, a chattering noise woke him up. Rising from the sofa, he looked around with adrenaline waking his reflexes. He realized that what he was hearing was chattering of teeth.

'Nancy,' he thought. And true enough, it was indeed her.

So he stood up in a hurry and strode towards the bed. "Nancy? Nancy!"

he called, but she didn't respond.

He put a hand on her forehead and checked her temperature. She was burning like hell!

"Nancy, oh, you have a fever..." With a quivering voice of panic, Charles muttered that to himself more than to Nancy.

He was right. Nancy, indeed, was suffering from a fever. And now, to make things worse, she appeared to be delirious, shaking violently, almost having a slight seizure.

It was just a simple cold last night––easily cured––but the ruthless rain, the cold wind, and the stress caused by so much anxiety worsened her condition.

And right now, he felt helpless, recognizing that he could not even make a call here in the dark.

Charles gulped, feeling a huge lump stuck in his throat. He didn't have a choice, did he? He knew he had to do it himself.

Although he had little knowledge from his experience, he was no doctor. And right now, someone in that field needed medical assistance. Trying not to panic, he thought of the appropriate ways of treating her or at least lowering her temperature.

Knowing he didn't have much choice, Charles proceeded to work. He turned on his phone to emit faint light adequate to make out of the dark outlines of his surroundings. He filled a basin with water and soaked a towel on it before placing it on Nancy's forehead. With that gesture, he hoped to ease the burning sensation that was probably invading her body right at this moment.

However, after rechecking her temperature, it didn't seem to have any effect at all.

He tried to recall how Nancy did it with Bobby––he wiped his body and not just his forehead.

That seemed to make Bobby better, but... it wouldn't be appropriate to do the same with her.

After hesitating, Charles finally decided to give it a try. With one eye closed, he lifted Nancy's clothes and ran the wet towel all over her exposed skin.

He was worried to soak Nancy's shirt, so to prevent that, he took it off completely, revealing her body to his sight.

Nancy's skin was smooth as silk, and every time his hand brushed against it, a tinkle of panic would electrify his nerves, causing him to almost jolt

"Stop," he muttered, giving himself a mental slap before glancing back at Nancy on the bed. "She's your patient right now, and you, Charles, must act accordingly." He continued working, continually reminding himself that he was a gentleman, and it was his duty to protect her. Besides, he couldn't risk Nancy to hate him.

When he was satisfied that he had covered all the areas that needed wiping, Charles took the towel off and put it back in the basin. Now, Nancy's face seemed tranquil under the faint light.

Perhaps, it was because he had done his job right that Nancy was a bit cooler now, and her breathing became normal.

So after making sure she was completely fine, he went to his corner and retired on the sofa, falling just as quickly as before.

The next morning, Nancy was the first to wake up while Charles' soft snores broke the quietness in the room.

"Sitting up from her bed, she felt her body aching from the vestige the fever left last night. She turned to the direction of the small window, where the warm golden light of the morning was beginning to seep through. The outside was peacefully quiet, just the birds chirping their way through the dawn.

And amidst the stillness of the morning, the typhoon left its horrible traces––the chipped off leaves sticking on the window sill and the torn branches stuck on the pane, where it left some horrendous scratches––but that was all there was. The storm was gone, and the life outside was beginning to recuperate. "Nadia?" The memory of her child made her sit up straightly.

And with a deep breath that almost hinted her hope of finding her daughter, she threw the thick quilt off of her.