Chapter 70 Unexpected Comfort
Amelia’s grip on the shards of porcelain tightened slowly. In a hoarse voice, she said, “Sorry, Mr. Hales bur think you should eat out tonight.”
Even though she’d lost her memory and couldn’t recall anything about the Summers family, her heart m ached.
She lowered her head to pick up the broken pieces of the bowl, but accidentally cut herself. A thin line of blood appeared on her palm.
The sound of a wheelchair drew closer, and suddenly, her hand was caught in his.
“Don’t move. I’ll have Nathan clean this up.”
Nathan, his assistant, was responsible for almost everything.
He was standing at the doorway, but he hadn’t come in.
Amelia caught a hint of surprise on Nathan’s face, and for some reason, she couldn’t help but find it amusing.
“It’s fine. I can clean it up myself.”
She bent down again to pick up the shards, but Dylan’s grip on her wrist tightened.
“Nathan,” Dylan called out.
Nathan immediately stepped inside.
“Ms. Summers, please have a seat. I’ll take care of it.“/
He was already heading to the bathroom to fetch a mop, clearly used to this kind of scene.
Amelia had no choice but to stand up. Dylan still held her wrist as he led her to the sofa.
As soon as she sat down, a tissue was pressed into her hand. He gently wiped the oil from her fingertips.
Amelia curled her fingers. Her body was still flushed from the surge of emotions, but the spot where he touched her suddenly felt cold, as if she’d brushed against snow.
It felt like the air around them had thickened, like they were wrapped in a bubble.
He wiped her fingertips clean. The cut in her palm wasn’t deep.
Dylan tossed the tissue into the trash and asked, “Do you have a first aid kit?”
“Yes.”
She got up to fetch it, and when she returned, she noticed several bloodstains on the sofa.
Her palm hadn’t bled that much/Then…
Her cheeks flushed red. Her period had started?
Judging by the stains, her pants must have been soaked through. When she’d stood up earlier, did Dylan see
Chapter 70 Unexpected Comfort
everything?
No wonder she’d felt uncomfortable while cooking.
But that wasn’t even the worst part. She didn’t dare look at him now. She wished she could disappear
Why did she always end up in such embarrassing situations?
Her face burned. Her whole body was tense. Then she heard him ask. “Does your stomach hurt?”
Amelia was so mortified that she felt feverish. She couldn’t speak. Suddenly, something cool pressed against her forehead.
It was his hand.
“Is it very painful during your period?” he asked again.
Her lips trembled before she finally managed to whisper, “A little.”
The smell of food had already faded from the room. Nathan Rowe quietly opened a window, then slipped
out.
Only she and Dylan remained.
Dylan got up, went to the kitchen and boiled some water. He somehow found a hot water bag, filled it. tested the temperature to make sure it wouldn’t burn her, and handed it to her.
Amelia sat on the sofa, barely daring to move.
“Hold it against your stomach for a while,” Dylan instructed gently.
She was about to thank him when her face suddenly went pale. Her fingertips trembled.
Dylan rummaged through the first aid kit and found some ibuprofen, but Amelia was already hunched over in pain. Her mind began to turn hazy.
“Take the medicine,” he instructed again.
She slumped against the sofa, drenched in sweat. She was too distracted by the pain in her stomach to worry about her dignity.
Dylan brought over a glass of warm water, held her chin with one hand, and pressed the pill to her lips with the other.
Amelia instinctively tried to spit it out, but he tilted her chin up and gently coaxed the water into her mouth.
“Drink.”
Maybe it was the commanding tone–or maybe she was just too tired to resist–but she swwed the pill. Once the pill was down, she leaned weakly to the side, like someone who had just been pulled out of water. She wanted to tell Dylan she couldn’t cook anymore, not even eat out, but no words came out. Flashes of memory flickered through her mind–her periods had always been this painful.
Chapter 70 Unexpected Comfort
+8 Pearls
Back then, she would curl up alone on the sofa and wait for the pain to pass. Now, someone was here with her.
She could feel herself sweating profusely.
A cool, damp tissue wiped her forehead. Maybe she was too out of it, but the moment it touched her, she instinctively leaned into the sensation.
She grasped the hand that brushed her cheek and nuzzled into his palm.
Dylan held the wet tissue and didn’t pull away.
Her face was pale. When she was weak, she became clingy–but once she recovered, she’d become distant again.
His palm slowly relaxed, cradling her cheek.
She nuzzled against his palm for five minutes before finally letting go.
He got up to turn on the air conditioner, but she caught his wrist.
Her mind was foggy, and her fingertips damp as they gripped him.
“I’m not leaving,” he said softly.
He patted the back of her hand–a gesture of reassurance.
Only then did Amelia slowly let go and leaned back, finally drifting off to sleep.
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