My Flirtacious Husband

Chapter 218

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Genevieve did not know how long she was unconscious. By the time she came to, she was lying in a

hospital ward, dressed in a patient’s gown.

Sunlight streamed in through the windows and warmed the ward slightly.

She tried to push herself up in bed and poured herself a cup of water from a jug on a nearby table.

Just then, someone opened the door.

Steven came in. When he saw that Genevieve was awake, he froze slightly in surprise. He quickly

recovered himself and rushed over to help her.

“That’s fine. I’m feeling much better after a good sleep.” Genevieve rejected his help with a smile. She

lifted the glass jug and poured herself a cup of warm water.

Steven’s gaze traveled over Genevieve’s face as she slowly sipped her water.

He was relieved to notice that some color had returned to her cheeks and that her gaze was more

focused.

Steven only learned about Genevieve’s stress-induced miscarriage from Armand after he sent Patrick’s

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body for cremation. He feared she would try to take her life again over Patrick’s death.

Genevieve’s throat felt a lot less scratchy after she downed a cup of water. “How long have I been

asleep, Steven?”

“Three days,” Steven replied honestly. “You were very stressed, and you—”

“I had a miscarriage, right?” Genevieve merely smiled and stroked her belly in the face of Steven’s

nervous stutter. “I wouldn’t have wanted the baby anyway even if I hadn’t had a miscarriage.”

Steven tactfully changed the topic and asked, “You haven’t eaten in several days, Mrs. Faulkner. Would

you like to get some oatmeal delivered here?”

“That would be nice. Thank you.” Genevieve nodded in response.

Steven hurriedly made a call, and ten minutes later, someone arrived with a steaming container of

chicken oatmeal.

Genevieve got off the bed and approached the dining table in the ward. She opened the carrier and

took out the chicken oatmeal. As she opened the takeout container, she asked Steven, “Has Patrick

been laid to rest?”

The thought of his brother’s pale, lifeless face caused Steven’s heart to twinge in pain. He suppressed

his sorrow and replied, “I was picking a burial plot for Patrick earlier, but there were some delays. He

will be laid to rest the day after tomorrow. And also, Mrs. Faulkner…”

He trailed off as he produced a green envelope and a small wooden figurine from his suit pocket, which

he handed to Genevieve.

Steven had planned to burn them without Genevieve’s knowledge, yet after reading Patrick’s

scheduled email, he relented and brought the items over for Genevieve.

“Patrick left these for you.”

Genevieve opened the green envelope. It held a card and a photograph.

Her gaze landed on the photograph, and she was immediately enraptured by the boundless sea

captured in it.

The reddish hues of the sunset dappled the sea, but they did not conceal the beautiful, pure color of

the blue sea.

“What a beautiful ocean,” Genevieve muttered in awe.

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She flipped the photograph over and noticed some words written on the back.

How can I stop my soul from drawing closer to yours? How can I simply pass you by in search of other

sights?

Steven watched as Genevieve stared at the back of the photograph. He did not try to read the words

scribbled on the back. Instead, he said, “Patrick had this card made when he was in Romdale. I’ve

been safeguarding it for him until now. He recently asked for it and transferred five hundred million into

its linked account. That’s in Anglanduran currency. He wants you to have it.”

Genevieve murmured an acknowledgment before placing the photograph and the card back in the

green envelope. Then, she turned her attention to the small wooden figurine.

It was a stunningly realistic carving of her.

One could even see the radiant smile on the wooden figurine.

Genevieve’s fingers brushed over the wooden figurine before she picked it up. She recalled seeing

Patrick with a chisel in his hands when she once dropped by with cream puffs. Back then, he said he

was carving something for fun.

It turned out he had been carving a figurine of her.

Tears pricked Genevieve’s eyes. She tried her best to blink them away.

After collecting herself somewhat, she raised her head and looked at Steven. “He wanted to bring me

to Kransbay. He said the ocean there was beautiful. Steven… could you leave half of his ashes to me?”

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