Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 129 - - not wearing clothes

Although she hadn't asked him about his past, she could sense that he must be carrying a heavy burden. After all, who would be chased and end up stranded in a foreign land unless they had a lot to hide?

Thinking this, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him, and she said with concern:

"Make sure you get plenty of rest. I'll have Gary come by every day to change your bandages. Once your injuries heal, you should leave as soon as possible."

He didn't look up, his gaze still fixed on the book in front of him.

"If you don't come, I won't change them."

The words, though full of threat, were spoken so casually, almost as if he wasn't concerned, but they carried an unspoken command that left no room for refusal.

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Cynthia stood frozen, staring at him in disbelief, while he remained unfazed, continuing to read, indifferent to her gaze. After spending so many days together, she could tell that he had quite a temper, but at least he hadn't really made things difficult for her.

But today... what was going on with him?

"You can change them or not, it's your body," she snapped.

She gave him a glare and turned to leave, not wanting to argue with him. There was no way he would agree to let her change his bandages.

She only had two suitcases. As soon as she opened the door, the burly men waiting outside eagerly stepped forward to take them. She followed them back to the mansion.

When the butler, Wilson, saw her return, his eyes lit up in happiness, and he eagerly followed behind her, chattering nonstop. She felt like her head was about to explode. How could one man talk so much?

In TV shows and novels, the butlers in wealthy families were always portrayed as cold, indifferent, and cruel to the mistress of the house. Why was he acting like this?

Or maybe this was his way of pretending to be kind and gentle? With that thought, she suddenly stopped in her tracks, turned around, and glared at the incessantly chattering butler. Fredy was so startled by her sudden, sharp gaze that he trembled.

"L-Lady, what's wrong? Did I do something wrong?"

His eyes were filled with innocence and sincerity, with not a hint of malice. Cynthia could only rub her forehead in frustration.

"Uh... I just wanted to say... I'd like some time alone for a bit..."

"Oh, okay!"

The butler, seeing her impatience, stopped following her with a mischievous grin. Just as she turned to leave, he called out to her from behind.

"Lady, should I wait for the young master to have dinner together tonight?"

Cynthia was about to lose her mind. With a pounding headache, she uttered two words.

"Whatever."

The butler continued his chatter.

"Lady, would you like to call and ask him first? I can have the kitchen prepare."

"..."

Cynthia took several deep breaths to calm herself down before turning and rushing into the bedroom.

Later, she realized that the butler had a point. She should ask him if he planned to come home for dinner. After nearly two years of marriage, this was the first time she was living a "normal" married life, and it was a little awkward.

Ha! She gave a self-deprecating smile and took out her phone to call him. But the cold automated voice on the line said: *The number you have dialed is currently unavailable...*

She called several more times, but it was always the same response: the phone was off. She recalled the phone call she had overheard him taking that morning. When he heard the word "suicide," his expression had changed instantly. But who would be attempting suicide that would cause him such concern?

Eventually, she had no choice but to send him a text: *Are you coming back for dinner tonight?

What she didn't know was that when she decided to stay here and sent him that text, it was, knowingly or unknowingly, the first step in her attempt to salvage their marriage.

By the time dinner came around, he still hadn't replied. She felt disheartened and decided not to wait for him any longer. Later, when it got very late and he still hadn't returned or contacted her, her heart grew heavier with each passing minute.

Was this what every day would be like in the future—endless, painful waiting? With his status and position, he must have countless social engagements, right? Not to mention his various rumors with women...

Before they were together, she never paid much attention to how he spent his days, since out of sight, out of mind. But now...

As she thought about it, she felt a weight on her chest. She curled up in the large bed, holding her chest as she asked herself: Cynthia, now that you're with him, can you endure all this?

Love was like poison—once infected, it was hard to quit. If she wanted to quit, certain things would inevitably be torn apart and bloody. Just thinking about the pain made her fearful.

But another voice deep down urged her: Cynthia, if you love, just love! Admitting that you love someone isn't scary. As long as you've given your all and cherished them, even if you end up parting ways one day, you won't have any regrets!

She lay in the large bed, tossing and turning, when suddenly an old song came to mind. The soft voice of Karen Mok echoed in her head, singing gently:

Her voice wasn't sharp or rough, but soothing to listen to, especially in the stillness of the night. All her muddled thoughts were slowly laid bare.

She didn't know how much time had passed when suddenly, the shrill sound of her phone broke the silence. Her hand trembled as she picked it up. His voice came through, thick with exhaustion, and she could almost picture the weariness in his face, his brow furrowed, looking drained.

He asked quietly,

"Did you call me earlier today?"

"Yeah, I was just asking if you'd be home for dinner tonight..."

She spoke with some difficulty, and then she heard him fall silent for a long time, as though someone had suddenly choked the breath out of him.

"I'm at the hospital... something happened..."

She could tell he didn't want to continue, so she decided to interrupt him.

"Then take care and rest. If there's nothing else... I'll hang up now..."

There was no response for a long time, followed by the sharp sound of the phone being hung up. She put the phone down, gave a self-deprecating smile, and buried her head in the pillow, falling into a deep sleep.

The next day, Cynthia received a call from Gary, saying that Quinn absolutely refused to let anyone change his bandages and insisted that only she could do it. Thinking back to what he had said the day before, she felt enraged. How could these men be so difficult?

When she arrived at the small apartment, she found Gary hiding in the living room, looking terrified. He had just tried to convince Quinn to let him change the bandages, but Quinn had thrown him out without hesitation, even pointing a gun at him to force him to leave.

Cynthia could tell what had happened just by looking at Gary's frightened expression. It seemed that Quinn only let his guard down around her; his eyes weren't as sharp or threatening when he was with her. But when it came to others, he transformed into a fierce, intimidating figure.

She rushed into the bedroom and found him lounging against the headboard, reading a book with an expression of calm indifference. Her anger flared. Gary was a patient—couldn't he show a little more kindness? Gary had nearly lost his life because of Quinn, yet he showed no remorse at all!

She stormed over, snatched the book from his hands, and angrily said,

"What are you reading? After all this time, what have you learned? Do you even recognize this character?"

To humiliate him, she pointed to a complex-looking character. He suddenly lifted his face and gave her a teasing smile before nodding seriously.

"I recognize it! It means 'not wearing clothes!'"