Chapter 393 They Are Cold to Each Other! Married Life Has Become Dull!
Oliver was drunk, but not completely out of it.
He looked down at Ellie in his arms.
It was late, and she was wearing a sexy silk nightgown that reached her ankles, hiding her flaws. She still looked as stunning as ever, but Oliver felt no desire.
He gently pushed her away. "I promised Sarah, I won't be with another woman."
Ellie looked hurt. "You once wanted to be with me too."
Oliver stared at her.
After a moment, he walked past her into the hotel suite, rubbing his forehead as he went. "Let's talk, Ellie."
They were together after all, and he wanted to make things right with her.
Ellie followed him in and closed the door.
The suite was quiet.
Back in Marigoldia, they had parted on bad terms. Now, seeing her again, she was gentle and understanding. As Oliver leaned back on the sofa, she brought him slippers and knelt to help him put them on.
Oliver looked down, his blue eyes watching her.
Ellie knew he was looking at her. She said softly, "I'll get you some hangover medicine."
Oliver said nothing. He leaned back on the sofa, closing his eyes to rest. His chiseled features had a hint of sensuality, making him very attractive...
Ellie returned with the medicine and water, seeing him like this.
They had shared many intimate moments in the past.
Despite her disability, she still had a woman's physical needs. She wanted to hold him... but she couldn't tell what Oliver was thinking.
Ellie placed the items down and bent over, speaking softly. "Oliver, I brought the medicine."
Oliver opened his eyes slightly.
He was half-awake. In his daze, he thought he was home and that the woman in front of him was Sarah. He suddenly reached out and grabbed her hand, his voice hoarse as he called out, "Sarah."
Ellie froze.
Before she could speak, Oliver came to his senses. He looked up at the crystal chandelier, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Sorry, I fell asleep."
With that, he sat up and took the hangover medicine.
Ellie sat across from him.
After suffering in Marigoldia, she had learned to be more compliant.
looking at his face, she said in gentle tone. "Why didn't you go home after getting drunk? Is she still mad at you?"
Oliver slumped back on the sofa, his tone harsh. "It's none of your business."
He pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
Through the pale blue smoke, he said to Ellie, "I'll give you some money. You can go back to Marigoldia or any country you want."
After a moment, Ellie nodded.
She agreed.
Her compliance made him see her in a new light. His voice softened as he stood up. "I'm leaving."
Ellie didn't try to stop him.
She accompanied him to the door and even knelt to assist him with his shoes—a level of care and devotion that Sarah had never shown. Oliver was suddenly swept up in a whirlwind of emotions.
He gazed down at her, his hand brushing her cheek lightly. There was no trace of lust or desire, only a profound, bittersweet tenderness.
"Oliver." Ellie's eyes were slightly wet, her voice trembling.
Oliver smiled gently.
But he still left into the night...
He didn't want to betray Sarah.
He went home.
By the time his car pulled into the villa's driveway, it was already 1 AM. The air outside was damp and cold, making him reluctant to get out of the car.
After a while, Oliver opened the car door and walked up the steps to the entrance.
Sarah was already asleep.
The two kids weren't there; they were probably sleeping with the nanny. Oliver undressed in the dim light, watching her on the bed. She slept alone, the room warm, one slender leg sticking out because she was hot...
Oliver watched for a while.
Then he opened the bathroom door and went in to wash off the scent of perfume and the alcohol.
He lay down beside Sarah.
Her breathing quickened, but she didn't make a sound, clearly not wanting to face him.
Oliver didn't call her out.
He lay behind her, one strong arm around her waist.
From start to finish, Oliver showed no signs of desire, and she remained silent.
Eventually, Oliver found it pointless. After a long time, the frustration in his heart finally dissipated. He leaned close to her ear and whispered something soft.
But Sarah didn't respond for a long time.
He leaned in to check—
She had fallen asleep, her breathing even.
In the past, he would have shaken her awake, but now he couldn't bring himself to do it.
He got up and went to the bathroom, turning on the hot water. In the steamy heat, he tilted his head back and let out a long breath.
Sarah was up early the next morning.
It was December, and the plum blossoms in the yard were blooming. Sarah carefully pruned them with scissors. Claire Carroll muttered beside her, "Mr. Windsor finally came home. You should have stayed in bed with him. Couples always fight, but the love is still there! What's the point of pruning these dead things?"
"Trees have feelings." Sarah smiled faintly. "Claire, you talk about couples fighting... but what kind of couple are Oliver and I? We're no better than enemies!"
Claire said nothing more.
Upstairs, Oliver smoked on the balcony, listening to their conversation.
He looked down at the cigarette between his long fingers and laughed at himself.
He thought, 'Oliver, when did you become so naive, thinking she could really let go of the past and be a loving couple with you?'
How ridiculous!
Logic told him he should give up on Sarah. She might never love him again.
But he couldn't let go.
He was attached to the home they shared. Even if she didn't love him, as long as she stayed, she was still his wife. To the outside world, they were still a loving couple.
The days that followed were strained.
They were cold to each other.
A man who didn't find warmth at home would seek it elsewhere. The young girls at the club were charming and eager to please... but they didn't understand men.
Oliver drank for several days, growing more and more frustrated.
Late at night, the rain stopped. The dark gray streets were dotted with puddles, reflecting the neon lights.
He suddenly thought of Ellie.
Turning the wheel of his black Bentley, Oliver drove to the hotel where Ellie was staying. He pressed the doorbell of the suite, unsure if she had left.
After a moment, Ellie opened the door.
She looked at him and murmured, "Oliver, it's your birthday today. I made a cake and some pasta. I didn't expect you to come... there's only one bowl of pasta."
What man could refuse such warmth?
Oliver walked in.
On the small round table in the living room was a small cake and a bowl of pasta, looking cozy.
Oliver was somewhat moved. He sat down to eat the pasta, his tone indifferent. "You remembered my birthday?"
Ellie nodded.
She sat across from him, slowly lighting the candles and asking him to make a wish. "It's very effective! Don't waste this birthday."
Oliver didn't make a wish; he didn't believe in such things.
His blue eyes stared at her. After a while, he smiled faintly. "Only women believe in that."
He finished the pasta and sat on the sofa, smoking silently.
He remembered the first year of their marriage, when Sarah had organized his birthday. From early morning, she had been full of surprises. Despite being so inexperienced, she had dressed provocatively to please him.
She even baked him a birthday cake.
Her eyes had sparkled. "Every year on your birthday, I'll make you a cake. I'll learn to cook... I'll get better and better."
But he had caused trouble!
At 22, Sarah had been shy, her heart racing.
Thinking of the past, Oliver's blue eyes grew moist.
She no longer remembered his birthday.
Late at night, the rain had stopped, and the night outside was brighter than before.
Ellie leaned against him, speaking softly. "I've packed my bags. My flight is at 11 AM tomorrow... Oliver, I've decided to go back to Marigoldia."
The pale blue smoke surrounded them.
Oliver's eyes stung...
Maybe he was too lonely, his heart too soft!
He gently took Ellie's hand, his tone indifferent. "If you want to stay, stay. I'll buy you an apartment."