Chapter 73

Chapter 73

She shook her head gently.

I stared at her, my eyes becoming deep and complicated.

"Five years ago, a woman took a bullet for me. She was standing behind me. The bullet went through her body and then into mine, which is how I got this scar."

As I said this, my eyes darkened for a moment.

"Her body slowed down the bullet's impact." I didn't continue, but I figured she could understand what I meant.

She hesitated, then asked uncertainly, "So she, how is she now?"

I responded with forced casualness.

She was quiet for a while, then carefully spoke up: "That person was she your..." She thought for a moment, then continued, "Was she your woman?"

I looked at that delicate little face in the mirror with an expression more serious than ever before.

"Ella, listen to me." I paused, then said firmly, "From beginning to end, you're the only woman I've ever had." I wanted her to know that although my past had its ups and downs, at this moment in my heart, she was the only one.

I hoped she could feel my sincerity and that she could truly accept me without being so full of fear and wariness.

"Ella," I looked at her and added seriously, "I've only made love with you."

The expression on her face instantly shifted from blank to confused.

A man like me at the top of the power ladder, acting wild and doing whatever I want—at my age, she must think I'd been with women before.

Thinking back to that time at the racetrack, I was pretty rough with her—nearly wore her out completely. She was practically breathless by the time I was done with her.

Those intense scenes, even I feel scared thinking about them now, no wonder she doesn't believe me.

Seeing Ella's distrustful look, I asked, "Don't believe me?"

She didn't respond, but the answer was obvious.

I lifted my eyelid slightly, and she just stood there, lost, not daring to move.

I lowered my head slightly, pressing my face against her cheek, watching her shocked and helpless expression in the mirror.

I saw her ears and cheeks instantly turn even redder, heard her heartbeat speed up.

Watching her shy and helpless like this, I loved it.

I emphasized again in her ear: "I've only done it with you, and in the future, I'll only make love with you."

But I didn't expect that my heartfelt confession would actually scare her a bit.

Whatever, Ella's on her period right now, so I should stop teasing her.

I took her hand and placed it in the sink, helped wash off the bubbles, then picked up a nearby towel and carefully dried her hands.

"Go to bed," I said softly.

Hearing this, Ella immediately turned and ran out of the bathroom in a panic, like a prisoner released from jail.

After she escaped from the bathroom, I closed the door, slowly opened my eyes, and reached up to turn on the shower. Warm water poured down from above, falling on my body.

If I hadn't sent her out just then, neither of us would've gotten any sleep tonight.

After showering, I casually threw on a bathrobe and walked out of the bathroom.

I walked to the bed and looked at her, already asleep on it.

This time she wasn't pretending—she was really asleep.

The whole trip from Astoria to Esmere City had really worn Ella out.

I also lay down on the bed, turned off the light, gently pulled her sleeping form into my arms, breathed in the fragrance of her hair, and slowly drifted off to sleep.

In all those past years, whether awake or asleep, that string in my mind had never relaxed.

In the place where I grew up, countless people wanted me dead. All these years, I've never entered deep sleep.

I don't know how much time passed when I felt Ella moving restlessly in my arms.

In the darkness, I asked quietly, "Why are you moving around?"

Hearing my voice, she immediately went still and stopped moving.

I wrapped my arm tightly around her, my hot breath constantly falling on the top of her head.

I reached up to touch her bangs when suddenly my brow furrowed—my palm touched something wet. I turned on the wall lamp by the bed, and warm orange light fell on her delicate face.

She was covered in sweat, eyes tightly closed, her pretty brows knitted together, her lips bitten and pale.

I touched her head and asked softly, "Ella, what's wrong?"

She didn't answer, just shook her head, her face showing an expression of pain.

Seeing her curled up, clutching her stomach in discomfort, I sat up in bed and said, "I told you not to move, and you didn't move—since when do you listen to me like this, Ella? Why didn't you say something when you felt bad?"

Intense pain spread from her lower abdomen throughout her body. She seemed to have no strength left to speak, only biting her lip tightly, not making a sound.

I'd never taken care of a woman before—how would I know what was going on?

I looked at her and asked, "Stomach ache?"

She nodded slightly, her breathing becoming heavier and heavier.

"Ate something bad?" I asked again.

She shook her head gently—the stomach pain clearly wasn't from eating something bad.

"Period cramps?" I asked tentatively.

Ella endured the severe pain, blushing as she nodded.

I leaned over and grabbed my phone from the nightstand, calling Kai.

"Kai, go buy some medicine now."

Kai asked in confusion, "Mr. Smith, are you not feeling well? What medicine do you need?"

I held the phone, turned to look at Ella, and asked, "What's the medicine called?"

Ella looked at me, her face pale, her voice weak: "No need to buy medicine, I'll be fine in a bit, I'll just rub my stomach."

I looked at her with deep eyes and asked, "You sure?"

She nodded through gritted teeth, "Yes."

I completely ignored her words and simply told the phone, "Go to the pharmacy and buy me every medicine that can relieve period cramps."

She was in this much pain and still trying to tough it out—I really didn't know why she was being so stubborn.

Ella looked at me, opened her mouth, but couldn't make a sound for a long time.

I could see what she was thinking. I took a tissue and gently wiped the sweat from her forehead, saying, "Say what you want to say."

Ella hesitated before saying, "I, I don't want to take medicine."

I threw away the tissue I'd used to wipe her sweat and asked, "Why?"

"Taking too many painkillers makes you dependent on them," she bit her lip, "I don't want to take medicine every time it hurts."

I caught the key information and asked, "You hurt this badly every time before?"

She nodded helplessly.

I thought for a moment—she was right, taking too many painkillers does create dependency.

I gently lifted her blanket, leaned close to her, and looked at her with my chin raised, asking, "How can I help you?"