Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back!

Chapter 275

Her facade finally shattered.

She followed him outside, calling out to Curtis’ retreating figure, “Am I invisible to you? Is it only Leanne you see?”

Ms. Wright was always so polished and poised, but now she looked like someone who had lost her sparkle.

“You embarrassed me at Devin’s birthday. Do you know they all laughed at me?”

Curtis had reached his car by then, unlocking it, but turned around at her words, “My heart only has room for one, and it’s all for her. If that’s uncomfortable for you, then I’m truly sorry.”

Suzan’s fingers were clenched tightly, her nails almost digging into her flesh, “So, you don’t care about anyone else’s feelings just to make her happy?”

“Yes.”

There wasn’t a hint of hesitation in Curtis’ answer. His deep, usually intoxicating eyes seemed cold and indifferent under the twilight sky.

“You 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.”

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, “And yet, she’s the one I care for the most.”

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.

“Why are you here?”

Her face was pale, her lips devoid of color, a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead-eithe from pain or stuffiness.

Curtis’ gaze softened, “Poor thing.”

He placed his palm on her forehead to feel her temperature-it was burning up.

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His hand was cooler than Leanne’s forehead but not cold, a comforting warmth that covered her fevered brow and eyelids.

Instinctively, she closed her eyes, only to hear Curtis’ voice, tinged with affection and teasing, floating down from above, “You’re so hot, your brain must be boiling.”

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, “I’m sick. You better not come in.”

Curtis closed the door behind him, “Why didn’t you say so sooner? I’m already in.”

Leanne, struggling to stand, asked with a headache, “Did you need something?”

“Just checking on you,” Curtis said. “Didn’t want you to be miserable and crying for your mom.”

Her already feverish face warmed slightly, “I wasn’t.”

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. “Okay, you’ve seen me. Time to go. It’s contagious.”

“It’s hard to get me sick. Try harder, maybe you’ll succeed.” Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

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 Curtis’ uninvited presence but truly felt too sore and weak to a Curtis returned with a cup of light yellow liquid] “Take some?”

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.

“What’s this?” she asked.

Curtis answered, “It’s a kind of herbal tea. It’s meant to cool you down and make your lungs feel better,”

Leanne thought it was made by a household staff and didn’t question further.