Chapter 285
Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back! ( Leanne Castillo )
Chapter 285
Leanne still had a bit of a cough, and after work one evening, she picked up a few pears, planning to steam them when she got home.
Exiting the elevator and turning down the corridor, she saw someone in front of her apartment door.
Curtis was sitting on a black suitcase, facing the corridor, seemingly waiting for her return.
His long legs stretched out casually, his head leaned back in a relaxed pose. Upon seeing her, his lips slowly curved into a smile.
Leanne was inexplicably charmed by his grin.
Looking at his leisurely demeanor, then at the suitcase he was sitting on, she paused, a hint of wariness in her expression.
âWhat are you doing here?â
Curtis didnât speak but pulled her hand towards him. Leanne tried to wriggle free but couldnât escape his grip, and he placed her hand on his forehead.
The heat under her palm startled her. âYou have a fever?â
Curtis hummed in confirmation. âYou passed the flu to me.â
His cheerful tone made it sound as if catching the flu was a stroke of good fortune.
Leanne was speechless. âAnd why are you happy about that?â
âWhat do
you think?â
Curtis had been feverish for half the day, initially at 101°F, and after measuring his temperature no less than ten times throughout the afternoon, he braved the climb to her door only when it reached nearly 103°F.
Afraid that anything less severe wouldnât soften her heart enough.
Now, despite the throbbing pain in his head nearing explosion, his heart was setting off fireworks.
âLeanne, you have to take care of me.â
âJust go to the hospital.â Leanneâs tone was as cold as an iceberg, âComing to me wonât make you any better.â
âItâs not the hospital that got me sick, why should I go there?â Curtisâ reasoning was a pile of nonsense, âWhoever spreads it, takes care of it.â
âI can drive you to the hospital.â
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Curtis leaned his head on her shoulder, his voice muffled but unmistakably weak, âLeanne, I feel terrible. Show me some pity.â
Leanne bit her lip, pulling away, âDonât-â
As she stepped back, Curtis, losing his support, began to slump forward.
Leanne, startled, instinctively caught him in her arms.
Her hands slid under his arms, wrapping around his back, pulling him into a full embrace.
Curtis seemed to have passed out, utterly limp his weight pressing down on her, nearly bringing her to her knees.
She couldnât see his face and wasnât sure if he was truly unconscious.
âCurtis?â
No response.
Gritting her teeth, she tried to lift him but her strength was no match for the weight of a
grown man.
The neighborâs kid, who had been peeking from behind his door, chose this moment to emerge, only to quickly retreat and close his door when Leanne sought his help.
Taking a deep breath, she wished the situation was reversed, with Curtis falling ill first. Then, she could have sent him away without a second thought, to Jake, Caleb, or even
back to the Richardsons. Someone would have taken care of him.
But now she couldnât bear to do it.
After he had taken care of her without asking for anything in return, both morally and emotionally, Leanne found it impossible to turn her back on him.
What a headache.
She managed to get Curtis inside and onto the couch, then went back for his heavy
suitcase.
Exhausted and drenched in sweat, she took a temperature reading: 104°F.
That heâd come all this way instead of going to a hospital was beyond her.
She fetched a glass of water and some fever-reducing medicine.
Curtis lay on the couch, a hand over his eyes.
Rarely sick, he usually exuded an air of effortless grace. Now, his feverish vulnerability stripped him of that façade.
Leanne coaxed him, âTime for your medicine.â
Curtis opened his eyes, the high fever reddening them slightly.
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He downed the medicine but didnât take the water glass, choosing instead to drink from
her hand.
Leanne, thinking it easier than arguing, let him be.
He took his time, leisurely drinking the entire glass from her hand.
Leanne fetched a blanket, suggesting, âYou should take off your suit.â
Curtis looked at her, a playful curve to his fever-bright eyes, âI wouldnât mind you taking advantage of me. After all, youâve been eyeing my body for quite some time. But Iâm too weak right now, maybe you could help?â
Leanne turned and walked away, âThen sleep in your clothes.â
His low chuckle followed her as he sat up to remove his suit and loosen a few shirt
buttons.
Her pillow carried her scent, a gentle, calming floral, cool yet comforting.
Curtis wanted to surrender to sleep in that softness but couldnât bear to miss a moment.
He watched as Leanne changed into cozy home clothes, saw her nibble on a pear while cooking, and smiled at her mix-up with the recipe.
She was adorable.
Realizing sheâd added the beef too late, she shrugged it off; at least it would cook through. Everything, including the mushrooms, yams, and carrots, went into the pot.
She thought about the cycle of care and responsibility.
Thereâs no free lunch, the benefits of care are always repaid in kind.
Curtis was her responsibility now.
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