"Oh, so now I can't miss a single meal? What about before? You weren't this concerned about me then! Tell me, are you only being nice to me because the baby is yours? If it wasn't yours, you wouldn't care about me at all, would you?"
The conflicted and sullen look in Flora Bloom's drowsy eyes brought a soft smile to Lex Cross's stoic face. He set down the porridge, sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled Flora onto his lap.
"Don't let your imagination run wild. Get up and eat your porridge."
After a nap, Flora Bloom didn't feel refreshed at all. Instead, she still felt weak and lethargic. She wasn't sure if it was the baby acting up or something else. Combined with her current frustration, it was as if she had suddenly become a different person.
If the Flora Bloom from before could be described as aloof and somewhat repressed, the Flora Bloom of today seemed more authentic—and had a temper.
