Chapter 81:
Perhaps hungry, Herbert immediately picked up his knife and fork, ready to cut into the steak. But before he could, I lightly slapped the back of his hand and said firmly, “Go wash your hands.”
To my surprise, the usually stern Herbert acted almost like a child in that moment.
“I don’t eat with my hands!” he retorted, as if that excused him from washing them.
“No, that’s not a good habit. You have to wash your hands before eating,” I insisted, staring at him intently.
He had just come in from outside, and the thought of all the bacteria on his hands made me cringe.
“Why do I have to listen to you?” Herbert shot back, clearly dissatisfied with being told what to do.
Bella’s POV:
I didn’t give up my request because of his dissatisfaction.
“Because these dishes are all made by me, otherwise you can’t eat them!”
I moved the plate away from Herbert.
The expression on Herbert’s face, deprived of his food, was a little ugly.
He stared at me.
To be honest, I was a little nervous.
But I showed no weakness and waited for him. After all, the plates had been taken away; if I put them back now, it would be a shame, I told myself, “Don’t be afraid of him. It’s you who made the food! Wash your hands before you eat! You are right!
The next moment he suddenly stood up and I took a step back in fear. No matter how tall I was or how strong I was, I was no match for him.
When I was very nervous, I heard Herbert say.
“I’m going to wash my hands”.
Then he turned and went into the bathroom.
I looked at his back and breathed a sigh of relief. I thought he was punishing me!
Herbert came back, sat down again and took the plate from my hand.
Herbert quickly ate all the food on the table and I couldn’t help but frown.
Hadn’t he eaten for days?
Herbert asked, “Why aren’t you eating?”
I looked at the steak on my plate, then cut off a small piece and put it in my mouth.
“It looks like I will have to cook more in the future.” I said as I chewed the steak.
But after only two bites, I couldn’t help but want to throw up.
I covered my mouth and ran to the bathroom.
My physiological response has always been very strong. When I was in the bathroom, I felt like I had thrown up everything in my stomach.
When I felt the worst, he patted me on the back and dripped water on me. When I had finished vomiting, he handed me a towel.
“Thank you,” I murmured, taking the towel and wiping my mouth. At that moment, I was surprisingly satisfied with his thoughtfulness.
Even though I knew I couldn’t eat anything right now, I forced myself to try.
I forced myself to finish the entire steak.
