Chapter 191: You Don’t Still Think You’re a Virgin, Do You?
Chapter 191: Chapter 191: You Don’t Still Think You’re a Virgin, Do You?
Adrian Grant said nothing, so Caroline Whitman lost interest in teasing him.
She came out after washing up.
Adrian Grant had already closed his laptop. He was sitting in the chair by the window, his water glass untouched on the table. But now there was a fresh breakfast set out, clearly indicating he had been waiting for her.
Caroline Whitman wiped her hands dry and sat down across from him. "Alright, go ahead. What did you want to ask?"
"Let’s eat first."
"..."
Caroline Whitman shot him a strange look. "You actually thought to get me breakfast?"
Now it was Adrian Grant’s turn to look at her strangely. "In your eyes, am I the type of person who’d just ignore his wife and child after losing his memory?"
"..."
’That’s a tough one to answer, actually.’
Of course, Caroline Whitman could only think that to herself.
Even with his amnesia, the unspoken understanding between them still lingered. Adrian Grant inexplicably read the guilt in her eyes.
Caroline Whitman buried her head in her food. Under the pressure of his stare, she felt a surprising flush of shyness. ’This is ridiculous. We’re a long-married couple, for crying out loud.’
When she finally looked up to glare back at him, Adrian Grant had already withdrawn his gaze. Now, even if she wanted to call him out, she had no proof.
Only after she had finished her breakfast did Adrian Grant slowly speak.
"Let’s pack up and go home."
"Go home?" Caroline Whitman paused, pointing at herself. "You’re telling *me* to go home?"
’Losing his memory really has turned him into a different person. Yesterday, it was all ’thank you’ this and ’sorry’ that, and today he’s telling me to pack my bags and get out.’
Still, she wasn’t the type to cling. If he really didn’t want to see her, she would just leave.
’But before I go,’ she thought, ’I’m going to record this little performance of his. Then I’ll make him pay for it when he gets his memory back.’
Caroline Whitman’s lips quirked into a smirk. "Fine. I’ll just go and—"
"I mean we’re going home together," Adrian Grant cut in.
Caroline Whitman’s words caught in her throat.
"I spoke with the doctor. My injuries just require rest to heal. Since I can recover anywhere, I might as well be at home."
He paused, then added, "I need a familiar environment to aid my recovery. Home will be more helpful than a hospital room."
Seeing his all-business expression, Caroline Whitman suddenly laughed. "Oh, and here I thought you were trying to get rid of me."
Adrian Grant met her gaze, his tone devoid of any forced tenderness or sentimentality.
"You are the woman I apparently went to great lengths to marry. Therefore, I will not do anything to hurt you before I regain my memories. That is my responsibility."
Caroline Whitman studied the dead-serious man before her. ’To say he has no feelings isn’t quite right... he’s made ’not hurting you’ an article of his responsibility.’
’But to say he does have feelings... he uses the word ’responsibility’.’
’Yep, that’s exactly like the Adrian Grant I first met.’
’Besides, if he started acting all lovey-dovey with me after losing his memory, *that’s* when I’d find him truly terrifying.’
Understanding all this was one thing, but it didn’t stop Caroline Whitman from sneakily opening her phone’s recording app to continue teasing him.
"So, I’m just a responsibility to you now? Nothing else?"
Adrian Grant didn’t answer right away. He glanced down at the ring on his finger as fragmented, elusive images flickered through his mind. An indescribable feeling stirred in his heart.
Adrian Grant looked up, his lips parting slightly. "I have a responsibility to you."
He paused.
"But I wouldn’t feel such a strong sense of responsibility for someone I’ve only known for less than forty-eight hours. So there must be something else about you at play here, something I don’t consciously know."
"Something about me? You make it sound like I’ve cast a spell on you." Caroline Whitman looked down at herself, torn between laughter and exasperation.
"I can’t explain what that part is yet," Adrian Grant answered vaguely.
Caroline Whitman raised an eyebrow, silently switched off the recording app, and turned away. "Fine, I’ll go pack our things."
"Everything’s already packed. We can leave as soon as you’re done eating."
"Alright, let’s go."
?
At noon, the car pulled up to the entrance of The Seraphic. Caroline Whitman got out first, with Adrian Grant, his head still wrapped in gauze, following behind her.
As for Ryan Grant, he had been picked up by Jonathan Grant to spend the day at the family estate, ostensibly so they wouldn’t be disturbed while they settled in.
But Caroline Whitman knew the real reason: it was to give her and the amnesiac version of Adrian Grant some space.
It was also a reaction to the scare from Ryan’s sudden chest pains the previous night; Jonathan wanted to spend more time with his grandson.
Caroline Whitman opened the door.
She had gotten out of the car, walked to the front door, keyed in the passcode, and let herself in, swapping her shoes for slippers before heading inside.
Adrian Grant followed behind. He paused for a moment when she opened the door so effortlessly, then followed her inside without a word.
He opened the shoe closet. It was fully stocked with shoes for a man, a woman, and a child.
"..."
The living room wasn’t as he remembered it. To be precise, it was completely different from how it had been when he lived here before May.
A section next to the sofa was partitioned off with interlocking floor mats, on which various toys and models were neatly arranged.
Caroline Whitman was already heading upstairs, her light footsteps showing she knew the layout of the house like the back of her hand.
Adrian Grant followed her. As he passed a room on the second floor, he paused. The door was ajar, revealing what was clearly a child’s bedroom.
Seeming to notice his pause, Caroline stopped and glanced back. Following his gaze, she smiled. "That’s your son’s room. The one next door is his playroom."
Adrian Grant pressed his lips together, tore his eyes away, and continued toward his own room.
Now it was Caroline’s turn to follow leisurely behind Adrian Grant, watching as he paused inside the walk-in closet.
He stared at the closet, the majority of which was filled with his and Caroline’s clothes. He was silent. Utterly silent.
He pulled open a drawer, and his hand froze.
The drawer was neatly packed with unopened boxes of condoms.
The air in the room went still.
Seeing him freeze, Caroline peeked into the drawer out of curiosity and burst out laughing.
"Oho, when did you stock up on so many of these behind my back? Tsk tsk tsk, and quite the variety, too."
"..."
Adrian Grant expressionlessly slid the drawer shut. Watching his prim and proper reaction, Caroline scoffed. "What’s wrong? You don’t still think you’re a virgin, do you?"
"..."
The thought of the nights to come, with his memory still gone, crossed Adrian’s mind. He was silent for a moment before saying with grave consideration, "We should sleep in separate rooms for the time being."
The moment he said it, Caroline whipped out her phone and hit the record button. "Say that again."
Adrian Grant glanced down at the recording screen on her phone. "..."
For some reason, he no longer felt like repeating himself.
He had a gut feeling that repeating his words while being recorded would have dire consequences.
Adrian turned on his heel and brushed past her. "It was nothing. Forget I said it."
But Caroline spun around and chased after him. "Say it! Go on, say it again! I didn’t quite catch that."
"..."