Just when he bent down to sit, the wound on his back gave a pulling pain, and he couldn’t help but furrow his brows slightly.
As Sophie Smith looked up, she happened to see that scene.
"You..."
She was about to ask, "What’s wrong with you?" but luckily she stopped herself in ti.
During a cold war or a quarrel, the most taboo thing is to express concern first or to compromise.
He heard her say the word "you," but he didn’t even lift his eyelids.
The wound on his back hadn’t been treated, and it always felt a bit uncomfortable.
But he didn’t want to leave the room to treat his wound now, afraid that if he stepped out, she might follow right after and try to leave the Land Family.
After pondering for a mont, he called the maid into the room.
Following his instructions, the maid brought the dical kit and stood aside with her head lowered.
He was wearing a light gray V-neck T-shirt, and in front of Sophie and the maid, he had no qualms, raising his hand to take off the T-shirt.
After all, Sophie was used to seeing his body, so him taking off his shirt was nothing to her.
But the young maid standing aside was extrely shy.
Indeed, Asher Land was a man whose physique alone could attract a lot of won.
The maid approached with the dical kit, taking out cotton swabs and a dicine bottle, carefully applying dication to Asher Land’s wound.
Sophie dared not let her gaze linger on him, unsure if it was because of her own inner guilt.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have scratched him...
...
After applying the dicine, the maid hurriedly left the room with the dical kit.
The room was once again left with just the two of them.
"Aren’t you going to sleep?"
He was bare-chested, wearing only a pair of gray casual sweatpants. As he spoke, he moved towards the bed.
"How can I sleep with you here?"
Sophie tossed and turned on the bed for a while, her mind a ss, unable to fall asleep.
Asher lay on her side, or rather, lay face down beside her; after all, the wound on his back didn’t allow him to sleep peacefully.
Thus, Sophie didn’t fuss about anything else that night.
But when she woke up in the middle of the night, she turned slightly and saw the faint warm yellow light illuminating Asher’s quiet profile, which stirred another bout of pain in her heart, severely dry and aching.
She couldn’t help but ask herself again and again, what exactly was she doing.
Is she really going to keep fighting against Asher like this?
In reality, she also understood in her heart that if there ca a day when she truly left him, she would be devastated.
Between Irene Morton and herself, he must make a choice.
For him, Irene might be an obligation or even a bit of familial affection, but for him, she was love.
Sophie knew she couldn’t justifiably bla him because, if she were to choose among these three things, she was certain it would be a hard decision.
...
When Sophie woke up, Asher had already gotten up.
She stretched lazily and moved her ankle, feeling as if the swelling had sowhat subsided overnight and wasn’t as painful.
Yet she was uncertain if she could still drive out.
At the dining table, compared to yesterday, or even the previous period, Sophie’s attitude was notably more "mild."
She quietly ate breakfast, and after a while, she suddenly looked up.
"Do you have ti today? Could you take back to the apartnt?"
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