"| prescribed some medication to help, but he won't take them," said the doctor with a frown. "He won't get better if he continues to refuse help." "I'l talk to him tomorrow," said Rosalie.
"I heard that he listens to Miss Avery. Maybe we should-" "Absolutely not!" Rosalie snapped furiously. "She's the reason my son is like this. That woman brings nothing but bad luck!" The doctor did not argue.
His only responsibility was to Elliot's health.
"I know you didn't mean to take her side..." Rosalie said as she tried to quickly reach a compromise. "Let's see if he listens to me tomorrow." 1 She only hoped for her son's speedy recovery.
Everything else could wait.
After Avery took a shower, she walked to the window and looked outside.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtThe snow on the ground looked like a layer of silver powder that illuminated the night.
She felt a strange compulsion rise within her.
She picked up her phone and wanted so badly to give Elliot a call.
She wanted to hear his voice.
After some thought, she was afraid that he would not answer her call, so she decided to send him a voice message instead.
Even if she could not hear his voice, she wanted him to hear hers and know that she was thinking of him.
Avery sent the message, then walked to the living room, took out the bag of yarn, and began to knit.
With the world around her stuck in silence, she became immersed in her task.
Elliot was startled awake from a nightmare in the middle of the night.
His forehead was covered in sweat and his eyes were filled with an unusual restlessness.
These days, he was having nightmares of himself dying every night.
The most terrifying part of the dreams was that he was always an incomplete corpse that was reduced to an unrecognizable mess of blood and flesh.
In those dreams, he was rotting away, surrounded by flies and maggots.
He hated himself more every time he woke up.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmElliot picked up his phone and looked at the time.
His fingers accidentally opened the text message notification on the home page, and his eyes met Avery's profile picture.
He opened the message with trembling hands and played her voice message.
"It's snowing outside, Elliot. Did you see? | heard you went home today. | hope you get well soon! | wanted to call, but | was afraid of bothering you. Which is why I'm sending this instead. Here's a photo of the snow on our side!" 1 Elliot clicked on the photo she had sent and saw the beautiful, snowy scenery.
His throat tightened as the revulsion from the trauma subsided, temporarily. 1 He played Avery's voice message over and over again and allowed the gentle ring of her voice to slowly chase away the demons in his heart. 1 A week later, Elliot showed up at the headquarters of Sterling Group.
He was in his wheelchair with a light blanket over his legs.
His face was as aloof and regal as ever, while he emanated an unapproachable aura.
Other than the fact that he was wheelchair-bound, there was almost no evidence that he had a neardeath experience only a few weeks ago.
When Elliot entered his office, his assistant, Chad immediately briefed him on his work schedule. 1 Once he was briefed, Chad asked, "Do you want anything to drink, sir? Coffee? Some milk, maybe?" "Coffee," Elliot said, then added, "Call Chelsea over."