I had to admit that Bryantâs words had a way of weaving magic, a sweetness that made me momentarily wish I could forget everything that had happened between us. But some wounds were too deep to heal, leaving a scar unmoved.
Like when he didn't come home all night, I never doubted him. I understood he was busy with work for the Ferguson Group. But after everything that had happened, trust didn't come easy anymore. Love couldn't be unconditional or without hesitation. There were always reservations, defensiveness, doubts, and uneasiness.
Even if things seemed to mend, this pattern, if left unchecked, would lead to a breaking point. So, perhaps it was better to cut our losses.
"Bryant, let's not do this. Let's think this through," I pleaded.
"I know you don't believe me, but I'll prove it," he said with a conviction almost like a vow.
I looked away, handing him another document to change the subject. "Here, take a look at this. I'll go get a nurse to check your temperature."
"Kevin," he called out firmly, "Get me some Arnica cream."
Kevin hurried off.
I was puzzled. "Didn't you have your bandages changed? And Arnica? That's for bruises, not for what you have."
He reached to touch a spot on my lower back, pressing gently. "Doesn't that hurt?"
I winced. "You know I hurt myself there, and still, you pressed it?"
Soon enough, Kevin returned with the cream.
I took it, but Bryant watched me closely. "Give it here."
I refused, "I can apply it myself."
"Do you have eyes on the back of your head?" Without waiting for a rebuttal, he took the cream, lifted the hem of my shirt, and gently rubbed it on the bruise. "You're all bruised up but didnât say a word. Do you think you don't have a husband to care for you?"
He had never been so attentive. Before, even if I were all in cuts and bruises, he would remain detached.
The pain from the bruise and the bitter memories tangled together. I suppressed my emotions, a habit formed over three years, "I've been managing on my own all this time."
Lost Me, Gained Regret (Jane and Bryant Ferguson)
ï¤Chapter 263 Bryant was usually low-maintenance, and after his heartfelt words, he became even more cooperative, especially at meal times when he insisted on being fed, claiming his hand hurt too much. But it was at night that he played his trump card.
"I need a shower," he said, looking straight at me.
After being unconscious for two nights, missing a shower was understandable for someone as particular as him.
But I remembered the doctor's advice and shook my head. "The doctor said your wounds can't get wet."
His chest and arm had the worst injuries, and there were also some scrapes on his legs.
He pleaded, hope in his voice, "But I feel uncomfortable, honey."
I was at a loss, no longer bothering to correct his endearment, merely suggesting, "How about Kevin help you with a sponge bath?"
Kevin, waiting to discuss significant matters from the company with Bryant, seemed horrified at the suggestion, laughing awkwardly. "Mrs. Ferguson, please. You're joking, right? If I dare touch Mr. Ferguson, I'll be out of a job tomorrow. It is a task only you can do!"
With that, Kevin made a hasty exit, not even stopping to finish his work discussion.
Bryant looked at me, clearly liking the suggestion. "Sounds good to me."
...
I knew what he was implying. With Kevin gone, it was just the two of us.
Bryant raised an eyebrow. "Or do you still harbor ill intentions toward me, too scared to even touch me?"
I frowned. "Get over yourself."
He challenged, "Then why the guilt?"
"Shut up." I had to admit that Bryantâs provocation worked. I got up, went to the bathroom, prepared warm water, and got a disposable washcloth ready to clean him. We had gotten physical and seen each other naked. It should be nothing to give him a sponge bath.
His Charming Wife ï¤Chapter 10 Dominant Boss: Call Me Hubby, My Dear ï¤Chapter 250 Finn Shows up Amidst Many Obstructions