From Hatred to Passionate Love Amelia Hart

Chapter 172 We Must Save Kelvin's Hand The surgeon pulled down his mask. "Mr. Davis's condition is still critical. The injury to his arm is severe, with significant nerve damage due to repeated trauma and excessive blood loss. Currently, it's quite a challenge." Penelope knew that if Kelvin hadn't pulled the knife out of his arm, the damage wouldn't be so severe.

"What can be done? How can we treat him?" she asked.

"Our team will convene to determine the best course of treatment," the surgeon responded, "For now, we must ensure Mr. Davis's hand remains immobile." Grandpa Davis spoke up fiercely, "No matter what, we need to save Kelvin's hand!" The head of the Davis family, the CEO, crippled by this accident, would becthe butt of every joke.

And Kelvin, the ever so proud and arrogant, how could he ever cto terms with such a debilitating reality... The surgeon nodded. "We will certainly give it our all." The operating room doors stood completely open, and a nurse wheeled out the stretcher.

Penelope could hardly bear to look.

Never before had she seen Kelvin in a weakened state, his handsfeatures pale and lacking his usual sharpness.

"Kelvin..." she whispered.

Penelope attempted to step forward but was preemptively blocked by Grandpa Davis. "Don't cany closer!" he commanded.

With an oxygen mask affixed and IV fluids running, Kelvin was escorted by the nurse, gradually fading from her sight...

Penelope could only watch helplessly.

Touching him, once a simple act, had beca luxury she couldn't afford.

Grandpa Davis, intent on following to the ward, turned back suddenly, "Penelope, now that you've seen Kelvin, it's tfor you to leave." "Okay," she nodded, her voice barely above a murmur," I'll go." She wasn't needed here; the Davis family didn't want to see her.

Staying would make her a burden, an imposition.

"Penelope..." Monica looked at her sympathetically. "Always so compliant, always agreeing." "Maybe," Penelope sighed, "Kelvin and I were never meant to be together." How could two people, so clearly destined to meet as enemies from the beginning? How could a single night of being everything to each other result in a tragic case of mistaken identity with Fiona, causing us to miss yet another opportunity? And how could the experience of carrying a child and enduring so much hardship ultimately result to nothing in the end? How could they both nearly lose their lives over their misfortunes? Penelope watched as they disappeared down the hallway and turned slowly, she said, "Let's go, tto head home." "I'll arrange a ride for you," Timothy said. "Don't overthink things. Just get srest. I'll keep you updated on any changes." Penelope acknowledged, "Thank you, Mr. Foster." "It's the least I could do. After all, you're the apple of Kelvin's eye. He'll wake up, and everything will be easier then," Timothy encouraged.

Grandpa Davis was fuming, but any thoughts of how to handle Penelope, he had to consider Kelvin's feelings. Timothy was all over the place, making sure everything was taken care of.

Outside the hospital, Monica watched the car drive away. She complimented, "You may usually act like an easy- go-lucky person but you sure know what you're doing when it counts." "That's right," Timothy said, "Did you think I was all about jokes and smiles?" Monica scoffed, lightly, "Until today, yeah, pretty much." Timothy, confident and feeling slick, straightened his suit, and said, "It Seems that you've gotall wrong, Monica." Monica rolled her eyes and remarked, "Give you a little sunshine, and you already start to glow." "Hey, are you nearsighted or something?" Timothy asked.

Caught off guard by Timothy's sudden question, Monica replied, "What do you mean? Have you ever seenwearing glasses in all the years we've known each other?!" Planning your weekend reading? Ensure you're on novi L5sfor uninterrupted enjoyment. The next chapter is just a click away, exclusively available on our site. Happy reading! "If you're not nearsighted, why can't you see clearly?" Timothy teased. "How can you overlook a young, handsome, wealthy bachelor like me?" "... Yeah, right," Monica mocked, playfully.

Penelope returned to The King Manor, feeling utterly drained.

The butler had everything in perfect order; the calmness belied the day's events.

"Mrs. Davis, you're back," said the butler. "You should rest now." She nodded her agreement.

A bath had been drawn, and a fresh, clean nightgown had been laid out.

In the master bedroom, Kelvin's presence lingered everywhere...

Penelope lay in bed, a sudden sadness overwhelming her as tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.

Why had things between her and Kelvin turned out this way? Hatred, the death of a child, a sacrifice made to save a life...

Loving someone wasn't demeaning. Hating someone wasn't frightening, but what tore at the heart was feeling both love and hate for the sperson.

And not even being able to tell which was stronger.

Penelope drifted to sleep in a haze, haunted by nightmares.

In one of the nightmares, she was in an asylum, ostracized, her food thrown on the floor, forced to pick it up and eat.

Another found her in a hotel room, Kelvin whispering, "I will marry you." Then she was on an operating table, waiting for her child to be taken away...

When she awoke, it was already dark outside.

Penelope got up, noticing the pillow was soaked.

Planning your weekend reading? Ensure you're on novi L5sfor O uninterrupted enjoyment. The next chapter is just a click away, exclusively available on our site. Happy reading!

"Butler," she asked as she descended the stairs, "any news from the om hospital?" "Mrs. Davis, nothing yet," the butler replied, a hint of difficulty clouding his features. "Can I go see him?" she asked. The butler informed, "I'm sorry, but the old man insisted you stay at The King Manor. You're not to set foot outside until Mr. Davis wakes up." "But..." Penelope's voice choked, "When he wakes up, he'd want to see me, right?" He loved her, of that much, she was sure.

In the past, Penelope had been skeptical about the sincerity of his love for her. But this ordeal had eradicated any doubts.

Only true love leads someone to risk their life for another, to wish for their beloved to live a long life while facing their death with composure.

The regret, however, was that love wasn't enough to fill all the gaps between them.

The butler sighed sympathetically, "Mrs. Davis, You've got a tough break." Penelope looked down, "As long as I'm alive and well, I can't complain." The butler suggested, "I'll call the family doctor to change your dressing. We need to tend to the cuts on your face and neck promptly." Penelope nodded.

The family doctor arrived promptly and, while tending to her wounds, mentioned the possibility of scarring. "You'll need to take good care of these, use scar treatment creams, or consider cosmetic surgery after the scabs form..." the doctor reminded. Penelope half-listened, her heart consumed with prayers for Kelvin to wake up soon. She felt trapped there, unable to do anything. After the doctor finished redressing her wounds and started packing up his medical bag filled with equipment, Penelope suddenly stood up, with her face pale.

"Mrs. Davis?" the butler asked, puzzled. "What's wrong?" Her lips quivered, and a sheen of sweat dotted her forehead as she slumped back onto the sofa, her vision darkening.

She was reminded of Mr. Davis Sr.'s death.

When Mr. Davis had been rushed to the hospital after the car crash, despite the urgency and the medical staff's vigilance, someone had exploited a vulnerability, leading to his death.