Take Care Of Him Novels & Stories

"Then take care of him." I was taken aback. I couldn't help but remain silent. "What do you mean?" "He doesn't take care of himself, right? Then, take care of him." I looked away. "I don't need to take care of him. He can take care of himself. Not to mention, he won't let me do that." "How do you know that?" "He can already protect himself. He can take care of himself if he wants to. I don't need to interfere."

Wasn't I supposed to be apologizing to him already? "Good." He walked backwards. "I'll let you go by evening. And ensure to take good care of Liam. At least, I guess he's the only understanding person. He even trusted me when I told him that you'll wake up when you were unconscious. He might be small, but he's way better and smarter. Kindly take care of him, ok?" "Ok let's—" "Have a nice day. See you in the evening." He added, and walked to the door.

We both knew that even if I wanted to, I couldn't take care of him since someone had to work, and because it was a complicated illness he would have to stay in a place where he was cared for and watched twenty"four hours a day. "How are you? It's so beautiful. "He told me touching my hair that was the color of his, before it turned gray. "I'm fine, better now that I see you well. " I sit next to him caressing his cheek with my thumb. "I am fine. " He takes my hand and covers it with the other like a sandwich. "How have you been? I didn't pull her out of any important engagements, right? "Ask cautiously. "No. Well, I was on a business trip but I had already fin

He was bewildered by his own feelings. "Alright, make sure to feed her something if she asks," he spoke out. "Sure sir" the lady answered and he cut the call. He had told the lady to look after her, who was also the caretaker of the mansion. Heaving a deep sigh he proceeded with his work on his laptop shrugging all the nagging feelings.

Or at least he was trying to. I let out a slow breath and looked back at the cart. “If I can’t take care of him at home,” My voice was barely a whisper now. “Then let me take care of him like this.”

“It’s not your fault,” I whisper. He shakes his head, dark hair falling over his brow as he reaches for the Velcro fastener for the bandage. “Everything that touches you is my responsibility.” His responsibility. His to protect. His to care for. His. He checks his work with painstaking care, as if the slightest wrong movement could wound me further. He’s a man who breaks bones with his bare hands, who has thrown me around our bed like I’m a doll. But tonight he treats me like I’m fragile glass he refuses to let crack.

He put his both hands on the either side, bending down to my height looking straight into my eyes. "Remember one think Anshika, we're on talking terms now, it doesn't mean I tolerate your this behaviour towards your health, take good and proper care of you so that you took care of your babies, your husband, your work and also your in-laws, understand??" He said sternly.

“I’ll tell him.” A small satisfied look appears on his face, and I turn to leave, my heart racing against its ribcage. After a few steps, I hear him call my name. I stop and look back despite the people staring at us, giving him a questioning look. He hesitates at first, almost as if he’s contemplating whether to say it or not before he eventually does. “Take care of him." The words almost make me laugh. However, I just answer. “I always have.”

“Six weeks. You need to know that.” Something moves in his expression. “We’ll take care of her.” “You’ll take care of both of them.” I hold his gaze. “Do you understand me? Both of them.” He nods once. “I need you to come with me to fill out her intake forms.”

He gave me a look that I will never change. “If you don't take care of yourself then you will fall sick then how will you treat patients. Let me feed you some bites from my lunch then you can go to sleep as much as you want.” I smiled faintly. If it wasn't him who always takes care of me, then I don't know how I will survive in this hospital. He always takes care of me. “If you give me your food, what will you eat? Don't do this to yourself. You make me guilty sometimes.” I whined.