Chapter 192: Husband, Why Aren’t You Sleeping Yet?
Chapter 192: Chapter 192: Husband, Why Aren’t You Sleeping Yet?
Adrian Grant left the bedroom, went into the study, and closed the door.
Caroline Whitman pulled out her phone and glanced at the recording. It had only captured his "pretend I didn’t say anything." She clicked her tongue in disappointment and slipped the phone back into her pocket.
’Even with amnesia, this guy still knows not to dig his own grave. He dodged my recording trap subconsciously.’
’Heh, men. Even amnesia can’t stop them from paving the way for future perks.’
’Next time, I can’t let him see the recording app.’
That evening, Caroline Whitman showered, changed into a slip dress, and examined her reflection in the mirror, nodding in satisfaction.
She went downstairs for a glass of water. Light seeped from under the study door as she passed, but she didn’t knock. After finishing her water, she returned to the master bedroom and lay on the bed, scrolling through her phone. Half an hour passed with no sound from the study. Another half an hour went by, and still, there was nothing.
It was 10:30 p.m.
Caroline Whitman set her phone down, padded over to the study door in her slippers, and knocked twice before pushing it open and stepping inside.
Adrian Grant sat at the computer, a glass of cold water and a stack of documents on the desk beside him.
The gauze bandage was still on his head. Under the glow of the desk lamp, he had an air of almost monkish austerity.
"Honey, why aren’t you in bed yet?" Caroline Whitman cooed, her voice dripping with sweetness as she approached him.
Adrian Grant didn’t look up. "You go ahead. I’m still busy."
’Busy?’
Caroline Whitman snorted inwardly. ’So *now* he decides to be busy.’
’Anyone could see he was just trying to avoid me.’
"I can’t sleep if you’re not in bed," Caroline said, settling into the chair opposite him. She propped her chin on her hands and watched him. "Want me to change your dressing for you?"
"No, I’ve already changed it."
"Oh."
Caroline Whitman left the study, closing the door softly behind her. Adrian Grant paused his typing and looked up to find she was already gone.
’Good,’ he thought. ’I’m not ready to share a bed with her yet.’
A wave of relief and gratitude washed over him, thinking she understood.
However, that relief and gratitude vanished the moment Caroline Whitman walked back in.
Caroline Whitman came in, carrying the first-aid kit.
"Something like changing a dressing is best left to your wife. Besides, how long ago did you even do it? Let me."
Adrian Grant stared at the first-aid kit she’d opened on the desk in front of him, silent for a moment.
"..."
"I can do it myself."
"Of course you can," Caroline said, taking fresh gauze and ointment from the kit. She moved to his side. "But your wife *wants* to change it for you. Turn this way."
Her tone left no room for argument.
Adrian Grant glanced at her, then finally turned his head, presenting the injured side to her.
’Seeing him comply so meekly, Caroline was inwardly surprised.’
’Honestly, she hadn’t expected Adrian to be so cooperative.’
’But his usual "keep your distance" aura, combined with this obedient behavior, created a strangely compelling contrast.’
The corners of Caroline’s lips tilted up. ’Maybe Adrian’s amnesia isn’t so bad after all.’
She lifted a hand and removed his glasses. Her movements were gentle as she unwrapped the old gauze. After it was off, she dipped a cotton swab in iodine to disinfect the area, then applied ointment to the wound, dabbing it on bit by bit.
"Does it hurt?" she asked, even though she was using the gentlest touch she possibly could.
She glanced down at his face, but his expression remained impassive as he said,
"It doesn’t hurt."
’It didn’t hurt. In fact, it was itchy.’
’She was too close. The scent of her body wash mingled with her own faint, natural fragrance. When she leaned over to grab the scissors, the neckline of her dress dipped, revealing a flash of pale skin.’
Adrian squeezed his eyes shut. Time seemed to stretch on endlessly.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he finally heard her say, "All done."
Caroline packed up the first-aid kit and stood. "One more change tomorrow and it should be fine. Get to bed early. Don’t work too late, or I’ll worry," she added with a soft lilt.
She left the study, kit in hand.
Only then did Adrian Grant open his eyes. He slowly picked up the now-cold glass of water and downed it in one go.
A moment later, he rose with a resigned sigh and went to take a cold shower.
「At midnight」
Adrian Grant finally left the study. He stopped in his tracks as he reached the master bedroom.
’No light was coming from under the door. Caroline must be asleep.’
He stood there for a few seconds, then turned and pushed open the door to the adjacent guest room. He froze.
The bedside lamp was on. Caroline Whitman was lying on her side on the bed, propping her head up with one hand while the other rested on her waist. A strap of her slip dress had fallen halfway down her arm, exposing a pale, delicate shoulder.
When she saw him enter, there wasn’t a hint of surprise on her face. Instead, her lips curved into a smile, and she wiggled her fingers at him. "Hi."
"..."
Adrian Grant stood in the doorway, staring at her in silence.
Caroline was smiling like the cat that got the cream.
"I had a feeling you’d come to the guest room, so I warmed up the bed for you," Caroline said, her eyes glinting with playful mischief.
’She knew it. Adrian would never go into the master bedroom. He’d assume she was asleep by now and try to take refuge in the guest room.’
’If she couldn’t even predict a simple little scheme like that, what was the point of being married to him for so long?’
’Well, it hadn’t been *that* long.’
’But each day felt like a year, so if you rounded up, it was a very long time indeed.’
Adrian finally spoke, his voice tinged with the resignation of someone who’s been completely figured out. "What are you doing here?"
"Honey, shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?"
Caroline shifted into a more comfortable position, bending one knee. The hem of her dress rode up a little with the movement. "I graciously left the master bedroom for you and came to sleep in here, only for you to sneak into my room in the middle of the night. What would you call that? Isn’t it just perfect telepathy? Our marital chemistry is so amazing, we even pick the same room when we try to sleep separately."
"..."
Adrian kept his tone as level as he could. "Fine. You sleep here. I’ll go to the master bedroom."
"Nope. I want to sleep in the master bedroom, too. I’m used to that bed," Caroline said, sitting up.
Hearing that, Adrian had no choice but to walk into the room. "Fine. I’ll sleep here."
"Okay."
He saw that she’d agreed but made no move to leave. Just as he was about to say something, she stretched her arms out toward him, her voice soft. "Honey, carry me back to the master bedroom."
Adrian glanced down at her outstretched hands. Her fingers were slightly parted, looking almost dazzlingly white under the lamplight.
He didn’t move. Unfazed, Caroline said languidly, "You used to always carry me to bed. Honey, amnesia is one thing, but you can’t use it as an excuse to give me the cold shoulder."
"Of course, if you don’t want to..." Caroline paused strategically, her voice dropping with a hint of disappointment as she started to lower her arms. Just then, Adrian walked over, bent down, and scooped her up off the bed.
One arm supported her back, the other hooked beneath her knees.
Caroline smoothly wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her body hang against his. She rested her head on his chest, doing her best to hide the triumphant smile spreading across her face.