The Ex-Wife's Redemption: A Love Reborn Chapter 87

I carefully finished dressing Henry's wound. Though his pain seemed exaggerated, I remained gentle, my fingers methodically working over his injured skin.

"There," I said, securing the bandage with medical tape. "Try not to move it too much, and keep it dry for the next day or so."

Henry carefully flexed his fingers, testing the bandage. The pain that had creased his face moments ago mysteriously vanished, replaced by that familiar entitled expression I knew all too well.

He looked up at me expectantly, as though waiting for further attention.

"Thank you for helping me earlier," I said stiffly, gathering the medical supplies. "But I need to get back to work now."

Without waiting for his response, I turned and walked away. I'd repaid my debt—treating his wounds was sufficient thanks for his intervention with Thomas. The thought of Thomas still made my skin crawl with disgust, but I pushed the feeling aside as I hurried down the corridor.

"Sophia! Give me more time!" Henry's voice boomed down the hallway. "Stand right there!"

I quickened my pace, nearly breaking into a jog. Behind me, I heard a stern voice admonishing Henry.

"Sir, this is a hospital! Please lower your voice immediately!"

I smirked slightly, imagining Henry's face.

The great Henry Harding, being scolded like a schoolboy. Served him right.

I reached the cardiovascular department, slipping through the doors and finding sanctuary in the staff room. As I caught my breath, I glanced at my schedule. A patient needed pre-meal insulin.

I collected the necessary supplies and headed to Room 312. As I pushed open the door, my body collided with someone exiting the room.

"Watch where you're going!" a sharp voice snapped.

I stepped back, steadying myself. Before me stood a teenage girl, around eighteen, with bright purple hair styled in wild spikes. Multiple piercings adorned her ears, eyebrows, and nose, and her nails were painted in a rainbow of garish colors. Her heavily lined eyes narrowed as she looked me up and down.

"Sorry about that," I said, maintaining my professional demeanor. "I'm here to give Mrs. Davis her insulin."

"Whatever," the girl replied, eyeing me with undisguised contempt. "Look at you, trying to be all professional. Aren't you too old to be playing nurse? Shouldn't you be home knitting or something?"

I blinked, caught off guard by her hostility. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." She smirked, crossing her arms. "I've seen your type before. Middle-aged women desperately clinging to a career because no one wants them at home."

Something in me snapped. After everything I'd been through in the past few days—Henry's accusations, Thomas's assault, the constant emotional whiplash—I wasn't about to let this teenage punk disrespect me.

"Listen, sweetheart," I said, my voice dropping dangerously low. "I don't know what your problem is, but you need to back off. Now."

"Or what?" She stepped closer, her face inches from mine. "You'll call security on me? Poor little nurse can't handle herself?"

I felt my hands curling into fists. "I don't need security to handle a child having a tantrum."

That did it. The girl lunged forward, her colorful nails aiming straight for my face. I tilted my head, dodging the attack with surprising agility, and grabbed her wrist. With a simple twist, I redirected her momentum, sending her stumbling backward.

She looked shocked for a split second before her face contorted with rage. "You bitch!"

She came at me again, and this time I didn't back down. We grappled in the doorway. I wasn't proud of fighting a teenager, but I wasn't about to let myself be attacked either.

"That's enough!" A familiar voice cut through the chaos. Henry appeared from nowhere, pulling us apart with ease. His injured hand didn't seem to hamper him at all as he restrained the still-struggling girl.

"Let me go, you bastard!" she screamed, kicking wildly.

Henry nodded to one of his ever-present security personnel who had materialized in the hallway. "Restrain her," he ordered coldly.

"Wait—" I began, but was interrupted by a frail voice from inside the room.

"Ava? What's happening out there?"

An elderly woman appeared in the doorway, her hands feeling along the wall for support. Her cloudy eyes stared unfocused in our direction.

"Ava, apologize to the nurse immediately!" the old woman demanded, her voice surprisingly firm despite her fragile appearance.

The purple-haired girl—Ava Davis—scoffed, still restrained by Henry's security. "I'm not apologizing to her! Whatever, old lady!" She extended her middle finger in my direction. "I will never apologize to you, auntie!"

Henry's expression darkened at this display of disrespect. "Take her away," he commanded his security team.

"I'll have you thrown out of this hospital," he told the girl coldly.

"Fuck you!" Ava spat, struggling against the guards. "And fuck your poisonous wife! You just wanted to see me humiliated, didn't you? You bitch!"

"I hope you learn how to maintain proper manners," I said calmly.

Hearing my voice, the elderly woman froze. "Sophia? Is that you?" she asked. Her frail hand reached out, trembling in the air, searching for something she couldn't see.

My heart stopped beating, some long-dormant memory beginning to resurface.

"Child, is it really you?" The old woman continued searching the air with her outstretched hand.

I quickly moved toward her, afraid she might fall. I took her hand in mine, the familiar feel of her paper-thin skin awakening long-buried memories.

"Mrs. Davis? Yes, it's me," I confirmed gently. "How have you been all these years?"

Tears welled in the old woman's cloudy eyes as she clutched my hand. "I knew it was you. I recognized your voice the moment you started caring for me, but I wasn't sure... it's been so long."

I turned to Henry. "Please ask your men to release her."

"But she attacked you—" he began to protest.

"Please," I repeated firmly.

Henry studied my face for a long moment before nodding reluctantly to his security team. They released Ava, who immediately backed away, rubbing her arms where they had restrained her.

Harper held my hand tightly, unwilling to let go. "Sophia, I kept saying that voice sounded familiar! It was you all along!" Despite her age, her smile was radiant. "Such a good child, taking such wonderful care of this old woman these past days. I must thank you."

She turned in the direction of her granddaughter. "Ava, thank Sophia. If not for her, I wouldn't be recovering so well."

Ava crossed her arms and turned away. "She's just a nurse here. It's her job. Why should I thank her?" She moved to her grandmother's side, attempting to pull her away from me. "Come on, Grandma, let go of her. She's a rich man's wife now. Touching someone like you probably embarrasses her."

"What are you saying?" Harper protested, but Ava was already leading her back to the bed.

"Grandma's tired," the girl announced, shooting me a venomous look. "She can't entertain fancy rich ladies right now. You should leave."

"But I must talk with Sophia," Harper insisted, trying to resist her granddaughter's steering.

"Grandma, why do you even care?" Ava snapped. "Why bother with someone like her?" Her voice dropped to a harsh whisper that was still clearly audible. "Isn't she the reason our family ended up like this?"

I stood frozen, feeling as though I'd been doused with ice water. Harper's face fell, her cloudy eyes filling with tears once more.

"Ava, that's not—"

"I need to go," I interrupted, my voice barely a whisper. "Mrs. Davis, I'll come back later with your insulin."

I turned and fled the room, my eyes burning with unshed tears. Behind me, I could feel Henry's curious gaze following me.

As I walked away, I heard him murmur to someone beside him: "James, find out everything about that old woman and her family. Everything."