Atrophy of Love: Mr. Harris, Stop Fooling Around! novel Chapter 206

Victor Hemingway looked at the crystal-clear cup of tea. “It must be good tea if it’s personally made by Mr. Harris.”

With that, he picked up the teacup and took a sip.

“I’ve been troubling Dr. Hemingway with my girlfriend’s leg. I wouldn’t dare to neglect taking care of you,” said Charles Harris.

Sophia White Frowned. She did not like it when Charles Harris referred to her as his girlfriend or his woman, but he seemed to enjoy using these terms recently, especially when facing Dr. Hemingway.

“Neglect or no neglect, Mr. Harris, I would do my best to treat Miss White’s leg. However, I wouldn’t dare to guarantee if her leg would ever recover enough to be back to normal,” Vincent Hemingway placed his teacup down.

Sophia White’s lips turned a little pale when she heard the last sentence as she grasped the corner of her sleeve.

“I heard that Dr. Hemingway’s mentor is an expert in this field?” The look in Charles Harris’ eyes darkened.

Victor Hemingway glanced at him. “I’ve consulted a few mentors about this. If it wasn’t for that night on the rooftop, my mentor and I would have guaranteed Miss White’s leg could be treated back to normal, but now, all my mentor told me was to pray as often as I can to God.”

He paused a moment. There was a slight look of sarcasm on his face. “Have Mr. Harris ever thought that this day would come when you broke Miss White’s leg?”

The light in Charles Harris’ eyes dimmed somewhat as his hand could not help clinking continuously on the teacup he was holding.

“The tea wouldn’t taste good once it’s cold,” this topic of conversation was like a bunch of wet cotton being pushed into Sophia White’s heart and blocking it. She took over Vincent Hemingway’s teacup and poured him another cup of tea, changing the topic of conversation.

Charles Harris crossed his legs and placed his hands on his knees. He seemed to be deep in thought and did not say anything else.

Vincent Hemingway got up not long after and said, “I have something to attend to. I’ll take my leave.”

“Okay,” Sophia White stood up and walked him to the door. Charles Harris followed behind him.

Vincent Hemingway did not leave immediately after starting the engine. He wound down his window and said to Charles Harris, “It’s not suitable for Miss White to be walking too much with her current stage of treatment. It would be best if Mr. Harris is able to get her a driver.”

“Thank you, Dr. Hemingway, for being so concerned over my girlfriend,” Charles Harris smirked at him while placing his hands over Sophia White’s shoulders.

Sophia White struggled against it subtly, but he was too strong. She was unable to push him off and her body stiffened nervously.

“You’re welcome,” the corner of Vincent Hemingway’s eye raised slightly as he stepped onto the accelerator and left.

The last polite smile on Sophia White’s face vanished. She pushed her elbow into Charles Harris’ abdomen, which had yet to heal. While he winced from the pain, she took the opportunity to push him away and got into the villa, heading upstairs.

Charles Harris followed behind her and entered the villa, saying to her back, “I’ve said it before, stop avoiding me or I can’t guarantee what I would end up doing.”

Sophia White stopped in her steps when she heard this. She clenched her hands into a fist, even her lower jaw tightened, as if trying her very best to hold something back.

She paused momentarily, taking in a deep breath, and walked back downstairs. She sat silently on the sofa.

They looked at each other silently. Charles Harris poured away the cold tea in Sophia White’s teacup and poured her another cup of hot tea, but she did not drink it. He pushed the plate of fruits toward her, but she had no intention of having any as well.

He unbuttoned his sleeves and pushed them up, revealing his nice-looking forearm. However, there were gloomy looks on his handsome, angular face even though he was under the sun.

“I’ll get engaged with Leah in a month’s time, at the latest,” Charles Harris rubbed between his brows. He seemed to look a little tired.