Exposing the Charade of Deep Affection (PDF)

Chapter 27

Chapter 27 I’m Sick Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

Walter clutched the phone and looked at me. He didn’t pick it up, and I didn’t know what he was

thinking. Yet it seemed that Ashley was

determined. She called non-stop.

Walter’s phone kept ringing. In the end, he gave up. He picked it up, and she said something.

He got out of bed and went to the cloakroom. When he came out, he was no longer in his pajamas. I

lay on the bed, silently watching him. take the coat and hurry out.

I watched him leave in silence, and the expectation in my heart turned.

to ashes. I was full of bitterness and self-mockery.

Walter didn’t seem to remember until he reached the bedroom door that I was his wife. He stopped,

looked back at me, and said, “Ashley is afraid of thunder. I’m sorry. I need to go over there. Go to bed

early.”

I didn’t answer him. To be more precise, He left in too much of a hurry to listen to my response.

The thunder outside grew louder and louder. I pulled the quilt tight, and the huge sounds reverberated

in the empty bedroom for a long time.

Ashley was afraid of thunder.

He remembered it so well. As Ashley was afraid of thunder, he didn’t want to leave her alone to face

her fears.

Who wasn’t afraid of thunder anyway? Ever since I came back from the border five years ago, I hadn’t

dared close my eyes on every

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thunderstorm night. Once I closed my eyes, all I could see was a tangle of severed hands and feet and

mountains of bodies in the water prison. How could Walter not understand? Oh, wait. He did not

understand at all, and that made sense. He didn’t see. He didn’t see those mutilated limbs or those

mangled bodies. I was the only one who witnessed those

scenes.

The rain outside the window became more and more fierce, and I didn’t think I would be able to sleep

tonight, as the cruel memories and the bitter reality were killing me. I reopened the closed window and

stood on the balcony as the cold wind and rain tore me apart.

Only if I suffered physically could I ease my mental pain. It was the only way I had come up with to

ease the pain from my past.

I knew that I was sick, and I was far gone.

By the time the bedroom door was pushed open, I was frozen stiff. Hearing the sound, I looked back.

It was Walter. He came back.

His expression changed at once when he saw me standing at the window, bearing the storm. He strode

toward me, his handsome face sullen and fierce. He dragged me back from the balcony frantically,

almost roaring, “Tabatha, are you crazy?”

I looked at him. My face was frozen, and I couldn’t make an expression. I wanted to smile at him, but I

couldn’t, so I asked him hoarsely, “Why are you back?”

His eyes were scarlet, and he dragged me rudely into the bathroom. He did not answer me, but directly

turned on the shower without any tenderness so that the water was all over me.

Seeing that he reached out to undress me, I avoided him, my voice cracking as I said, “I’ll do it myself.”

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He was probably furious. He glared at me gloomily and sneered, “Which part of your body I haven’t

seen? Stop pretending.”

Feeling the warm water, I was less cold. I looked up at him and said, “Can you get out? I want to take a

bath.”

He looked at me with his deep, cold eyes, almost swallowing me up. I could tell that he was pretty mad

about my earlier self-abuse. Fortunately, he was well-bred, and even if he was so pissed off that the

veins on his forehead were budging, he wouldn’t hit women.

He glanced at me coldly before walking out.

After the bath, I finally regained my normal body temperature. When I came out of the bathroom, I saw

someone else in the bedroom. It was the Hinton family’s family doctor.

Seeing me, Walter ordered, “Lie on the bed.”

I opened my mouth, wanting to say something, but his face was so sullen that I shut up sensibly. After I

got into bed, the doctor gave me a full body examination.

There was nothing serious. The doctor said that everything would be fine as long as I had some soup

to warm up and paid attention to keeping warm on usual days. Then he left.

After the doctor left, it was already early morning. I drifted off to sleep. Walter seemed to give me

something to drink while I was asleep, but I was so sleepy that I didn’t even open my eyes.

The next day, when I woke up, Walter was still asleep. He was very good-looking, and when he was

asleep, he was very pleasant to look at, and he wasn’t solemn or cold at all.

I couldn’t help but look at him a few more times. While I was in a daze, the phone on the nightstand

rang. It was Walter’s phone again. Hearing

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the ringtone, he frowned and said in a hoarse voice with his eyes closed, “You pick it up.”

I was stunned and failed to react. After a few seconds, I realized that he was asking me to pick it up.

I looked at the phone screen and saw that it was Ashley. I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows and look

at Walter, who still had his eyes closed. “It’s Ashley.”

“OK. Pick it up,” he said in a deep, restrained voice. He didn’t have any extra reaction.

I hesitated for a moment and pressed the button to answer. Ashley, on the other end of the line, said

tenderly, “Walter, where are you? I have been waiting for you in the old house all night. My stomach

hurts.”