Chapter 259
I let my eyelashes flutter down as I took a deep, silent breath. “It is different.”
Deciding on divorce didn’t mean I wished any harm to him.
Bryant sat on the bed, reaching out with his long arm to pull me closer, looking up at me. “What’s different?”
His gaze
had me all over the place.
I said, “Everything’s different. If anyone got hurt today, I’d be concerned.”
“Anyone?” He echoed my words, his tone turning sharp. “If it had been Mark, would you have rushed over as quickly?”
“Yes,” I answered without hesitation, as if to prove a point, adding, “Maybe even faster.”
Mark was, after all, a good friend of mine. No one could remain indifferent to a friend getting hurt.
The tenderness in Bryant’s eyes vanished instantly, replaced by aggression. “And you’d be fine gazing at his bare chest just like this, shamelessly?”
Only then did I realize he hadn’t put on a shirt after changing his bandages, his chest bare except for the gauze. His broad shoulders and well–defined muscles were on full display. My thoughts had been solely on his injuries, not noticing his state of undress,
I felt my cheeks heat up, but his words sparked my anger. “Yes, got a problem with that?”
“Yeah.” He stubbornly pulled me closer, irrationally saying, “I won’t allow you to look at other men like that, especially Mark.”
I retorted, “On what grounds?”
“Because I’m still your husband.” Bryant enunciated every word, noticing my displeased expression, and then his tone softened. “Will you help me put on my shirt, please?”
I didn’t refuse, picking up the shirt from the hospital bed and softly saying, “You should listen to the doctor and take care of yourself”
He detected the underlying message, a flash of disappointment in his eyes. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes,” I answered. Making sure Bryant’s life wasn’t in danger was enough for me. Just a look at him would reassure me. Anything more was unnecessary, only serving to complicate things for us.
I bent down, temporarily removing the gauze from around his neck, stiffening slightly at his unusual body temperature. He had a fever. But it wasn’t my place to worry with doctors and nurses around.
As if I hadn’t noticed, I gently helped him into his shirt, carefully buttoning it up and straightening it. “There, I’ll be going now.”
He hung his head like a sulking child, jaw clenched, silent.
Exiting the room, Kevin, waiting outside, was somewhat surprised. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes.” I nodded, and Kevin glanced back into the room, closing the door gently, suggesting tactfully, “Mr. Ferguson was seriously injured. The doctors were reviving him for a good two or three hours. I’m a clumsy guy, afraid I won’t be able to take good care of him…”
I understood his hint. Yet, I pretended as if I hadn’t, replying restrainedly, “Let the nurses take care of him. The staff here are very attentive.”
Kevin sighed, “But no nurse is as good as a wife.”
“Kevin, you know better than anyone that we’re getting a divorce. It’s not my place to take care of him anymore.” I reminded him, somewhat helplessly.
Kevin blurted out, “But who else would go through such trouble for an ex–wife?”