Chapter 275
Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back! ( Leanne Castillo )
Chapter 275
Her facade finally shattered.
She followed him outside, calling out to Curtisâ retreating figure, âAm I invisible to you? Is it only Leanne you see?â
Ms. Wright was always so polished and poised, but now she looked like someone who had lost her sparkle.
âYou embarrassed me at Devinâs birthday. Do you know they all laughed at me?â
Curtis had reached his car by then, unlocking it, but turned around at her words, âMy heart only has room for one, and itâs all for her. If thatâs uncomfortable for you, then Iâm truly sorry.â
Suzanâs fingers were clenched tightly, her nails almost digging into her flesh, âSo, you donât care about anyone elseâs feelings just to make her happy?â
âYes.â
There wasnât a hint of hesitation in Curtisâ answer. His deep, usually intoxicating eyes seemed cold and indifferent under the twilight sky.
âYou all have gained something from me one way or another. I owe none of you anything. Only she has received nothing but pain from me.â
He opened the car door, and his last words before getting in were carried by the wind to Suzan, the self-mockery and desolation in them not blown away.
Curtis said, âAnd yet, sheâs the one I care for the most.â
Leanne was in and out of sleep, unaware of how much time had passed, when a m forceful, urgent knocking came.
Was it Mrs. Waldron again?
Knock, knock, knock-three times, louder and more urgent.
Disturbed, she dragged her aching body up, threw on a jacket, and went to the door, forgetting her mask in her rush. Opening it, she was surprised to see Curtis standing
there.
âWhy are you here?â
Her face was pale, her lips devoid of color, a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead-eithe from pain or stuffiness.
Curtisâ gaze softened, âPoor thing.â
He placed his palm on her forehead to feel her temperature-it was burning up.
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Chapter 275
His hand was cooler than Leanneâs forehead but not cold, a comforting warmth that covered her fevered brow and eyelids.
Instinctively, she closed her eyes, only to hear Curtisâ voice, tinged with affection and teasing, floating down from above, âYouâre so hot, your brain must be boiling.â
Leanne reached for a mask from the entryway cabinet, but before she could grab it, Curtis stepped inside.
She took a step back, her voice faint from the flu, âIâm sick. You better not come in.â
Curtis closed the door behind him, âWhy didnât you say so sooner? Iâm already in.â
Leanne, struggling to stand, asked with a headache, âDid you need something?â
âJust checking on you,â Curtis said. âDidnât want you to be miserable and crying for your mom.â
Her already feverish face warmed slightly, âI wasnât.â
She was only wearing a thin knit over her nightgown, revealing her delicate collarbones, visibly shivering.
Curtis frowned slightly, set down what he was holding, and scooped her up.
Carrying her to her bedroom, he laid her on the bed as if she were a doll and tucked her in. âOkay, youâve seen me. Time to go. Itâs contagious.â
âItâs hard to get me sick. Try harder, maybe youâll succeed.â
Curtis seemed unconcerned and turned to leave.
Leanne heard noises from the kitchen; he seemed to be looking for something. She w somewhat irritated by Curtisâ uninvited presence but truly felt too sore and weak to a Curtis returned with a cup of light yellow liquid] âTake some?â
Leanne, indeed feeling parched, sat up and leaned against the headboard to take the c
The water was still warm.
After a sip, she tasted a sweet, herbal freshness, likely from added honey.
âWhatâs this?â she asked.
Curtis answered, âItâs a kind of herbal tea. Itâs meant to cool you down and make your lungs feel better,â
Leanne thought it was made by a household staff and didnât question further.
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