The next day, Elton underwent a series of tests.
The doctor determined that Elton had suffered a mild concussion from a blow to the head, which was affecting his optic nerves. Elton's vision was getting increasingly blurry, and he could barely see out of his left eye.
Agnes was heartbroken. It felt like a stroke of bad luck out of nowhere. She had been by his side at the hospital for the past couple of days, caring for him.
Just as Agnes returned to Elton's hospital room from the doctor's office with the report, she noticed him typing away on his phone. When he saw her come in, he slipped the phone beneath his pillow.
Elton smiled warmly. "Agnes, you're here."
Agnes gently chided him, "The doctor said your eyes shouldn’t be straining over the phone. You really shouldn't be using it."
Elton shrugged. "Just handling some work stuff. You know how it is."
"Your health is way more important than work right now."
Elton moved closer to her, his expression softening. "If you say no phone, then no phone it is. I'll listen to you, whatever you say."
In Agnes’s memory, Elton had always been kind to her, but not necessarily this compliant. Back then, he was a rebellious teenager, always putting himself first. He rarely heeded her advice unless she got serious or upset.
Now, after all this time, he seemed to hang on her every word, and Agnes found it a bit unusual.
She set the food container on the small table. "Sit down and eat something. I made this myself, and you know I’m not much of a cook."
Elton chuckled. "If you made it, it’s the best. Come on, sit and eat with me."
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