Camille's face is slightly light no longer speak, but directly up and ready
to go back to the room, as for him to do what he likes.
But Camille just got up before she could take a step and was directly
pulled by the wrist, and he murmured, "Camille we are husband and
wife, and here is my half."
Helpless, Camille said, "Carter, can you be reasonable? I rented this
place with my own money."
"Camille, do you hate me so much? Why is there such a rush to have
to get a divorce?"
His voice was low and husky.
Camille was slightly stunned the whole person stood there motionless,
her heart also creaked as something rattled some indescribable
feelings.
How could she possibly hate him?
It is because of the fear that you will not be able to do the annoying, so
choose only the most suitable time to leave just.
Why won't he let go?
He was the one who said he wanted a divorce in the first place.
Camille pursed her lips tightly, controlling her inner emotions.
Her silence caused Carter to yank the person directly into his arms with
force.
When she realized it, she could only subconsciously put out her other
hand to protect her abdomen, and then struggled, "Carter, what do you
want from me?"
He wrapped his arms around her hard and refused to let go, one is
especially strong when drunk, Camille struggled and finally gave up.
Carter asked lightly, "Answer me, do you hate me?"
"No."
"You cheat."
âIf you don't believe me, there's nothing I can do.â Her words were flat.
Carter added, "Are you going to ignore me even if I'm unconscious,
Camille, you're so cruel, I'm your husband and you let someone else
take me away, what? You don't even want to take care of me
anymore?"
He was a bit speechless and said whatever came to mind.
But just don't let go.
Camille was so helpless that she said, "Let go of me while I make you
some sober soup.â
"I don't believe you."
Leaving Camille silent again.
In fact, he is also right, she does not drink, and just moved here not
many days, there is really no sobriety soup ingredients.
The two were frozen in this way, Carter had been unwilling to let go,
holding her with such force that she suspected her waist was bruised.
To be on the safe side, Camille spoke lightly, âCarter, what in the world
do you have to do to let go of me, it's late, I have to work tomorrow, you
need to rest too, what do we have to wait for you to sober up, okay?"
Carter didn't speak, but his breathing echoed in her ears, and the warm
spray of breath on her skin sent shivers down her spine.
Camille tries to keep her distance from him, but he steps closer so she
has no way back.
After a long time, he murmured in a low voice, "I want to take a bath,
you put water on for me to take a bath."
Camille pursed her lips slightly without moving, but he kept pestering,
she really did not want to continue to toss, and finally could only nod
and agree.
But Carter didn't let go of her, clasping her hand between his fingers,
and then still let her lead him to the bathroom.
Camille turns on the shower and fills the tub with water, places the
shower gel and clean towels within his reach, and then turns back to
the person next to him.
He was also staring at her, his handsome face with short black hair,
overflowing with a misty tenderness, he was good-looking, revealing
well-defined lines from his features to his contours.
Four eyes locked, Camille was the first to move away, she said, âThe
water is running, you can wash yourself, I'll be outside, call me if you
need anything."
Then she drew her hand away with the intention of walking away, but
Carter's brow did not move, his lips overflowed with the curve of
discontent, and his voice was low: "You wash me."
"Carter, will you stop it?"
She frowned with a look of displeasure.
Carter also gave a slight pause, his handsome cheeks showing a touch
of obvious aggravation, his eyes also dropping slightly to stare at her,
his voice low: "You help me wash, huh?"
His magnetic voice carried the ultimate compulsion, lightly coaxed with
a heavy meaning that put her in deep thought.
She had gone to bed before Carter came, so at the moment she was
wearing a simple cotton nightgown, but she was pretty and bright-
looking, and her skin was fair and translucent, and in the light of the
light it was excessively white.
She closed her eyes, and it was as if her heart was being enlarged a
little by something.
She just looked at the man in front of her quietly, and when she was
about to speak, he suddenly pulled her right into the bathtub.
He said in a low voice, "If you don't want to help me, then let's do it
together.â
Camille was soaked to the bone by the time she reacted.
She glared at Carter with a frown of displeasure, "Are you crazy?"
Then while Carter was sitting in the bathtub with little reaction, she
immediately stepped out of the bathtub and walked quickly out of the
bathroom.
She was furious, just because of the way he looked she had been a
little shaken, but I did not expect him to still be like this never thinking
about himself and not taking into account her thoughts at all.
Camille regretted letting him in, and should have just thrown him out.
She pursed her lips, her puffy face flushed, went to her room and
changed her clothes, then wasn't going to pay any more attention to
him, whatever, he could do whatever he wanted.
Camille simply unlocked the bedroom door and got into bed.
But she was sleepless, even listening to lullabies, there was a figure in
her head that kept drifting over and over, and it was annoying.
I don't know how long it took, but Camille's sleep finally came. She
didn't sleep long this time, and suddenly woke up in a daze, took her
phone and looked at it, it was already 5:30 am.
She froze for two seconds, then remembered something, then
immediately got off the bed and went out of the room, the living room
was empty, her subconscious reaction was that he was gone?
She rushed to the bathroom again and saw the whole scene in front of
her and froze.
Carter closed his eyes and leaned his upper body against the edge of
the tub, but most of his body was still soaking in the tub, she hurried
over and touched the water, which had long been cold.
Camille wrinkled her brow and nudged Carter's arm, âCarter? Carter
wake up?"
But Carter slept through it without any reaction.
But we can't keep him in the water, he'll catch a cold. Camille reached
out and pinched his nose: "Carter?"
Breathing was blocked and Carter reacted to this, but only
subconsciously swung away.
Camille said, "Carter, let me help you up and go back to bed, okay?"
He didn't respond.
Camille repeatedly pinched his nose, and it took many times before
Carter would cooperate.
Back in the bedroom, she sat him in the chair and coaxed him, âCarter,
take your clothes off, you'll get the covers wet in your wet clothes."
"Not off."
Carter refused outright.
Then half-closed his eyes and prepared to walk towards the bed,
Camille hurriedly stopped: "You'll catch a cold, and if you don't listen, I
don't want to care about you, or why don't we just ask Kian to come
and pick you up?"
He didn't make a sound, just lifted his eyelids tiredly and gave her a
look before saying faintly, "You help me."
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