Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son - Chapter 241: Chapter 241

I opened my mouth, but could not utter a word. I felt even more dizzy by the second, as if I was about to become delirious with the fever.
In my feverish haze, I could sense Quinn by my side, alternately helping me sip water and gently dabbing my forehead with a cool towel. After some time, I vaguely saw George come in.
After exchanging some words with Quinn—though I could not make out what they were talking about—George took out his acupuncture kit and administered a few needles. My eyelids grew heavy, and I fell asleep.
When I woke up, it was already noon the following day. Quinn was still keeping vigil by the bedside, dozing off with his head propped up on one hand.
I stared blankly at his handsome face, a wave of warmth surging in my heart. I instinctively reached out, wanting to touch the tip of his delicately sculpted nose.
As I reached out, the movement woke him up. He suddenly opened his deep, starry eyes, his gaze gradually clearing from sleep.
"You're awake? How are you feeling now?" Quinn asked, visibly relieved as he gently tested my temperature by pressing his palm to my forehead.
"Much better now..." I said, just as an itch crept up my throat, triggering an uncontrollable coughing fit.
Quinn frowned and said, "You call this much better?"
"My throat's still a bit sore..." I rasped, pouting. "I should've built that snowman last night."
Quinn snorted, his tone dripping with dominance. "Great. Pain will teach you a lesson! From now on, you must rest and recover well. No going out at night without my permission."
Was he treating me like how he cared for Benedict? I froze and said with dissatisfaction, "Wait, are you grounding me or something?"
"Don't want to be grounded?" Quinn asked, leaning in, his handsome face suddenly closed, eyebrow raised in a teasing smirk. "Maybe we should try something else. I could make you unable to get out of bed."
I was lost for words. Quinn could actually be flirtatious secretly.
"Ahem!" A discreet cough came from the doorway, and George walked in. I was unsure if George overheard my conversation with Quinn. The thought made me blush tremendously.
"Excuse me, I'd like to give a few reminders in person regarding Ms. Hilton's health condition," George said, slipping into his serious, professional tone as a doctor.
I sat up, leaning against the headboard, and said earnestly, "Dr. Johnson, please go ahead."
"You're very weak. The cold wind, coupled with your physique, has caused a fever. You stayed out in the snow too long last night, and your immune system weakened.
"From now on, make sure not to catch a cold. Keep yourself warm at all times, and take my prescribed course of traditional medicine for recovery," George said.
"How much longer do I have to take this traditional medicine?" I asked instinctively, recalling how unbearably bitter the traditional medicines George had prescribed were.
"Given your condition, at least six months," he said calmly.
I was stunned by what he had said. Based on what he had said, I must have been really sick.
"I'll make sure she takes the medicine on time," Quinn cut in, urging George to write the prescription and prepare the medicine.
The maid brought over George's medical kit. George searched through the kit for a while, then suddenly frowned and said, "I came in such a hurry last night that I forgot to bring a key herb."
He studied the prescription with concern and said, "This herb is essential; the formula won't work without it."
"Do we need it right away?" Quinn asked.
George nodded and said, "Yes, when the medicine is ready, she should take it as soon as possible."
Quinn immediately stood up. "Give me the name of the herb. I'll go get it now," he said.