Third person's POV
Misha's looks were average at best. She had a larger frame.
At 168 centimeters and 120 pounds, her figure wasn't bad, but standing next to Tabitha, she paled in comparison.
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Tabitha was slender, her skin as pale as snow. After losing weight, her delicate features stood out even more, making her look like a doll.
Misha, on the other hand, applied thick layers of foundation.
Unfortunately, she wasn't skilled at makeup. The heavy application left her face caked and uneven, creating a stark contrast between her face and neck.
It looked… odd.
Derek knew Misha didn't have bad intentions.
She was just straightforward, and he had a good relationship with her father, so he tolerated her.
Still, her daily appearances were hard to stomach.
Letting her leave would've been the kindest thing he could do for her.
But Misha didn't get the hint.
She batted her heavily mascaraed eyelashes at him, each lash standing out like a fly's leg.
Derek tried to dismiss her. "I'm going to read for a bit. Let's keep it quiet, okay?"
He hoped she'd take the hint and leave.
"Alright. Let me know if you want anything," Misha said, disappointed but sitting on the couch to "keep him company."
Just then, Tabitha walked in with a bowl of freshly washed fruit.
Taking care of Derek had once been second nature to her, so she knew his preferences better than anyone.
Back in the day, when Derek was busy in his study, she'd slice fruit and bring it to him.
He'd work while she fed him—a small ritual that had brought them closer.
Seeing Derek sitting on the bed reading, his sharp profile even more defined after losing weight, Tabitha approached quietly.
Unlike Misha, she didn't disturb Derek.
She picked up a small piece of apple with a fork and brought it to his lips.
Misha, watching from the couch, almost smirked. "Derek hates apples," she thought.
She was ready to laugh at Tabitha's mistake.
But to her shock, Derek opened his mouth and took the apple without hesitation.
He didn't even look up, completely trusting Tabitha.
The gesture felt like a slap to Misha's face.
She felt like a fool.
As Derek bit into the fruit, some juice trickled down his chin.
Tabitha quickly wiped it away with a tissue.
Once he finished, Tabitha sat quietly, waiting for him to finish reading before speaking. "If it's convenient, I can change your bandages now."
"Mm," Derek hummed in agreement.
Tabitha went to the bathroom to fetch a basin of warm water and a towel. Then she turned to Misha. "Miss Dalton, Derek needs to change his bandages."
"He's a grown man. It's not like he's shy," Misha snapped, her frustration boiling over.
"He wouldn't eat the apple I peeled, but he devoured hers!"
Derek spoke up. "I don't mind being seen by my wife. Anyone else, though…"
Misha's face fell. "Derek, you've rejected each other!"
Derek reached for Tabitha's hand. "I've always wanted to re-mate her. Tabitha just won't agree. Whether we've rejected or not, she's the only woman I'll ever call my wife."
Misha stormed out, fuming.
Knowing her, she'd be back first thing in the morning with breakfast.
Her persistence in pursuing Derek was unmatched.
While others might give up after a rejection, Misha doubled down.
Tabitha closed the door and returned to the bed, organizing the ointments without looking up. "Take off your shirt."
After a few days here, she'd learned the routine as well as any nurse.
Derek didn't move. Instead, he stared at her. "You do it. My back hurts if I move too much."
The excuse was… weak.
"He's afraid of pain?" The man who'd refused anesthesia during surgery?
Fine. She owed him for taking that bullet.
And it was only a few more days.
Tabitha leaned over, starting with the top button of his shirt.
A strand of chestnut hair slipped from behind her ear, and she focused on the task, her expression serious.
She'd come in a hurry, and the pajamas Rolf had brought her were a bit loose. When she bent over, Derek had a clear view of her cleavage.
To be fair, he wasn't trying to look. It was just… hard to miss.