Because of one sentence, Jack Hugh had been in a bad mood all night, as if he had been trying to weave a dream, only to have a hole suddenly torn into it, letting cold wind whistle in.
He didn't want to think about how many days Jane had left; he just wanted her to spend her remaining short days happy and relaxed.
But this wasn't an easy task, as every night he could hear her low moans of pain from the next room.
If he could, he would gladly take her pain.
When they ate dinner that evening, no one at the table spoke, and Mr. and Mrs. Hugh seemed to have noticed that they must have had a fight.
Mrs. Hugh was adorable; she bit her chopsticks and kicked Jack Hugh gently under the table.
"Give Jane some food," she chided him playfully, rolling her eyes at him before turning to Jane with a cheerful smile.
"Jane, this dress looks so great on you. I wouldn't have known it looked so good. I'm older, and my figure isn't what it used to be, but you young people have such good figures."
