Man, what's wrong with you?

Sherry's dizziness was getting worse. She stumbled and bumped against the cabinet, which shook with the impact.
Moreover, the wound on her back was stinging, as if it the skin had been slashed into pieces. But the physical pain was far more
bearable than the pain in her heart.
"Where did you get these? Are they from Steve, or some other man?" Jeremy asked angrily, as he stepped forward to steady the
cabinet. He looked without sympathy at Sherry.
She coughed. Her hair covered her face as she bent to cover her mouth and hide her fragile, injured eyes.
"So, it turns out you like such things, and the man who give them to you!" Jeremy sneered.
He glanced at the pile inside the cabinet. The sight of the gifts made him even angrier.
"No..." Sherry said softly, trailing off. She considered explaining, then swallowed back the words. Instead, a bitter smile formed
on her face.
She knew Jeremy well enough to know that nothing would convince him. It didn't matter what she said to him when he was in a
temper. He wouldn't believe her anyway.
"No?" Jeremy repeated incredulously. "You've already made the effort to keep these things while I wasn't here! I can see how
much you treasure these gifts!" To him, it seemed very obvious that she had a guilty conscience.
He breathed hard, thinking of what he would say to teach Sherry a lesson. "I've learned that you are a vain and shallow woman!
You would throw yourself at any man who gives you these stupid presents.
I never knew until today that you had such vanity!" Sherry stared at him. He was looking at her with sarcasm and contempt.
She realized that even after being married for so long, Jeremy still had no idea what kind of person she really was. He thought
she was vain and stupid like his other women.
"Don't talk nonsense," she said tiredly. "What you're saying isn't true. You just love to judge me by your own impossible
standards." With that, Sherry pushed him away and stumbled out of the ward.
Still wearing her hospital clothes, she rushed down the corridor, heading towards the front doors of the hospital. She didn't know
where she was going. She only knew that she wanted to escape Jeremy and forget the cruel words that broke her heart.

She emerged from the hospital and began hurrying down the street.
She was exhausted, but she used every last bit of strength to run as far as she could.
Finally, her energy spent, she stopped and doubled over, clutching at a nearby post for support. Her chest heaved as she
gasped for breath.
She hadn't eaten anything yet, and she felt her stomach growling with hunger. But she wasn't carrying any money with her.
She looked around at her surroundings. She recognized where she was immediately.
That was the tall building where she worked.
A familiar car was parked by the sidewalk near the building. She hesitated, then walked over to the car.
She squinted at the windows, trying to see if anyone was inside. "Sherry?" said a voice behind her.
She quickly turned. Chester stood there, looking at her with surprise. He asked, "Sherry, what are you doing here?
Shouldn't you be in the hospital? Why did you leave?" He studied her pale, sweating face and saw that she had placed a hand
on the car. He realized she was unsteady and about to collapse.
Chester hurried to support her. Her body was hot, and in contrast to her pale skin, her cheeks were flushed. Her lips were dry
and cracked, and she was looking at him in a daze.
"You have a fever!" he exclaimed, as he placed a gentle hand on her forehead. It was burning.
He tightened his arms around her. In a worried voice, he said, "I'll take you back to the hospital."
"No!" Sherry said hoarsely. "I don't want to go back to the hospital."
"Sherry, you have a burning fever. If you don't go to the hospital now, it will get worse." He frowned as he opened the door of his
car and began guiding her inside.
He was usually gentle and courteous, but he was firm when he gave orders.
"Mr. Gu, I don't want to go there," Sherry said softly. "I will go anywhere except to the hospital." She was very tired. She leaned
back against the comfortable seat, and turned her head to the side to look at Chester with pleading eyes as he got into the

driver's seat.
He placed both hands on the steering wheel, gazing into her burning, desperate eyes. His heart melted.
"All right, Sherry, I won't take you to the hospital," he said with a sigh. She gave him a small, relieved smile.
He started the car and began driving down the road. He didn't say where they were going.
Sherry didn't care, as long as it wasn't to the hospital. She watched the scenery outside the car window with unseeing eyes.
Tears blurred her vision and slid down her cheeks. Memories overwhelmed her as all the sadness and pain of the past several
years surged inside her.
She fought to hold back her feelings. She told herself this was the last time she would give in to this weakness.
From this point on, she wouldn't shed a single tear for Jeremy anymore!
From the corner of his eye, Chester saw Sherry's shoulders trembling. Although she made no sound, he guessed that she was
crying.
He hadn't expected to see her here, so helpless and alone, wandering around in hospital clothes. Something terrible must have
happened to her.
He didn't say anything to disturb Sherry. He just drove quietly.
She was a dignified woman, and he knew that she wouldn't want him to show that he had seen her weakness. Even when her
back was stabbed and she bled, she wouldn't fall into hysterics.
He accelerated, and the car sped along the road. They didn't talk at all during the drive. Eventually, the car pulled into Chester's
home.
He got out of the car and went to Sherry's side to open the door for her. She gazed up at him with clear, dry eyes, as though she
hadn't cried at all.
"Do you want me to help you, or can you stand on your own?" he asked.
"I can stand on my own. Thank you," Sherry replied, unbuckling her seat belt. She got out of the car by herself.

She gave him a small smile, thankful to be with someone who was so polite and respectful. Unlike Jeremy, Chester was a good
man who never forced her or made her feel embarrassed.
They walked up the driveway and entered Chester's home. The house was decorated in an elegant, simple, black-and-white
style. Everything was clean and tidy. Sherry bent down to change her shoes, but as soon as she raised her head, a sharp pain
began throbbing in her head.
She swayed slightly, holding out a hand for support. She must avoid making such sudden moves, or else the pain in her head
would get worse.
Chester caught her outstretched arm and supported her. He said gently, "Let me take you to my room."
"Yes, thank you," Sherry replied in a weak voice. She was so tired.
He helped her down the hallway, and felt her wobbling unsteadily on her feet. He felt sorry for her. "Sherry, let me carry you, all
right?"
Without waiting for her answer, he lifted her up in his arms.
She settled into his arms, feeling safe and comfortable. She raised a hand to touch his face.
Perhaps it was because of the cold wind blowing on his face outside, but his skin was cool to the touch. Sherry couldn't resist
rubbing his skin to cool herself a bit. It made him nervous, and he quickly set her down on the bed.
He went to fetch a thermometer, then returned to put it in her mouth. He looked at her flushed face and said softly, "Are you sure
you don't want to see a doctor?"