The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 503

Before he could respond, she pulled a yogurt cup from her bag and wedged it between Jay's crossed arms. "Here. A tip for the view."

She had just bought it from the supermarket's refrigerated section, and it was still freezing cold.

Jay kept his arms crossed. The yogurt rested right in the crook of his folded arms, pressed directly against his chest. The sharp chill seeped straight through his shirt.

"I don't eat this kind of thing," he said, uncrossing his arms. The cup slid down his arm, and he caught it effortlessly.

But Amy had already committed to the bit. After handing it off, she ignored him entirely and resumed her march toward Petty's room.

Jay squeezed the plastic cup, his face completely expressionless. His dark brown eyes locked onto the long, wavy hair swaying against Amy's back.

Suddenly, there was a rustle from the plastic bags in Amy's hands. With a sharp snap, the yogurt cup dropped perfectly back into her bag.

She spun around to look at Jay, who was standing a good ten feet away. He had tossed it straight in.

What an aim.

Meeting her stunned gaze, Jay said flatly, "Eat it yourself."

For some inexplicable reason, a little thrill fluttered in Amy's chest.

She gripped her bags and turned, taking long strides into Petty's room.

Petty had just finished her soup. When she looked up, she saw Amy bustling in with her groceries.

"I need to ask you something," Amy said, setting the supermarket bags on the table. She sat down next to Petty, took the empty soup bowl, and grabbed a tissue to hand to her.

Petty wiped her mouth slowly. "Yeah?"

Ever since Petty had fallen ill, Amy had refused to treat her like a fragile patient. She insisted on chatting with her exactly as they always had.

"Okay," Amy replied without looking up.

Petty walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. With shaking hands, she turned on the faucet. The sound of rushing water filled the cramped space, and the moment she completed the action, it was as if every ounce of strength was instantly drained from her bones.

She slid down the wall to the floor, her head slumped forward. Her left hand clamped around the bandages on her right wrist, her fingernails digging deeply into her own flesh.

Out in the hospital room, the sound of running water made Amy freeze. Her hands curled into tight fists. She slowly looked up toward the bathroom door. The girlish crush and romantic daydreams vanished from her eyes, replaced entirely by mounting dread.

It wasn't that she hadn't noticed Petty's trembling earlier—she just knew Petty was trying to hide it, and she hadn't wanted to break the illusion.

Now, the worry in Amy's eyes intensified.

Suddenly, she stood up. A terrifying realization struck her, turning her concern into outright horror.

That wasn't just sadness. That was a somatic episode from her depression!