Chapter 37 Did You Do It on Purpose?
Aria bit her lip and glared at Arthur, saying irritably, "No thanks, you eat by yourself. I'll eat with my workers."
She turned and walked toward the gardeners who were still organizing their tools nearby.
"David," she said to the head gardener, "you can knock off now. I'll go find the butler to arrange dinner."
The butler walked over, looking apologetic. "Sorry, Ms. Hall. The pasta pot broke, so if you want to eat, you'll have to wait another two hours."
Normally, waiting two hours would be fine, but Aria was pregnant.
If she got even a little hungry, acid would rise in her stomach, followed by weak limbs and dizziness.
Her stomach growled several times, as if on cue.
Arthur was still smiling, still holding her hand. "Come on, come eat with me first. The soup will get cold soon."
Aria pulled her hand away and looked at David apologetically.
David knew she was pregnant and waved his hand. "You go ahead and eat, don't wait for us. We still haven't finished cleaning up here anyway. It'll be just right to eat after we're done."
As the two were talking, they didn't notice Arthur making a "well done" gesture to the butler.
After finishing her conversation, Aria walked back to Arthur's side and said stiffly, "Let's go."
The corners of Arthur's mouth curved up again as he naturally took the lead.
The two walked along the gravel path toward the main house.
It was completely dark now, and ground lights had come on along the path, casting a dim yellow glow on the ground.
Dinner had indeed been set up in the main house dining room.
A white tablecloth covered the long table, with a silver candlestick in the center—very elegant.
Cream of mushroom soup steamed in white porcelain bowls, the roasted shrimp was golden, and the black pepper pasta had already been plated.
The hot, fragrant aroma filled the air.
Aria had wanted to maintain her composure, but her stomach growled again, and she resigned herself to pulling out a chair and sitting down.
Arthur sat beside her, picked up the soup ladle, and served her a bowl of soup first, pushing it in front of her.
"Careful, it's hot."
Aria said nothing, took the spoon and had a sip, then froze again.
She preferred sweet flavors, while Arthur controlled his sugar intake for fitness. She used to reduce sugar when cooking for him, but this soup was rich and sweet—clearly made for her taste.
She glanced at Arthur, somewhat suspicious that the broken pot story might not be true.
Arthur seemed oblivious and continued making small talk.
"Have you been tired these past few days?"
"Not too bad." Seeing he wanted to ask more, Aria didn't want to talk about herself and changed the subject directly. "How are your injuries healing?"
Arthur raised an eyebrow, a flash of pleasure in his eyes.
"Pretty good, they've scabbed over."
He deliberately moved his left hand, saying meaningfully, "The doctor said I need to apply ointment regularly, or they'll leave scars."
Aria made a sound of acknowledgment and used her fork to peel shrimp.
Arthur coughed and emphasized his tone a bit. "I can't reach the wounds on my back myself."
Aria's fork paused.
Arthur continued, "If you're free tonight, could you help me apply it? It'll be quick, won't keep you from resting."
Aria looked up at him.
Arthur looked back at her with complete sincerity, as if he really just needed her help applying medicine.
Aria sighed inwardly.
After all, he got injured protecting her—could she really say no?
"Fine, I'll help you apply it after dinner."
A triumphant smile flashed in Arthur's eyes, but he quickly concealed it.
During the meal, he became even more attentive, peeling shrimp for her one moment, pouring milk and passing napkins the next.
This special treatment left Aria both surprised and unsure how to react.
What was Arthur trying to do?
Was he trying to make up with her?
That would be ridiculous.
Aria remained composed, just eating her meal. When she finished, she said matter-of-factly, "Where's the ointment?"
"Upstairs in my room." Arthur stood up. "I'll go get it... do you want some wine? I have lots of cocktails."
Aria's face darkened. "No!"
"Alright." Arthur shrugged.
He brought the ointment and cotton swabs, placing them on the coffee table in front of the sofa, then very naturally turned his back and lifted the hem of his shirt.
After several days, the wounds had formed a layer of dark red scabs, and some of the longer ones still had reddish, swollen skin around them.
Aria went to wash her hands first, then dipped a cotton swab in the ointment and began carefully applying it to his wounds.
Arthur faced away from her, completely still.
The living room was very quiet, with only the sound of their shallow breathing.
"All done." Aria finished the last spot, threw the cotton swab in the trash, and capped the ointment.
Arthur lowered his shirt, glanced outside, and said, "Why don't you sleep here tonight? It's so dark outside."
"No need." Aria stood up and headed straight for the door.
Arthur didn't insist, just followed her to the door and reminded her, "Watch the ground lights, be careful."
Aria ignored him.
When she got back to her lodging, the gardeners had already finished dinner and were gathered together chatting.
Seeing her return, David looked somewhat surprised. "You came back?"
Aria looked at him even more surprised. "Where else would I go if I didn't come back?"
David scratched his head, not quite knowing what to say.
Actually, everyone had just been gathered together talking about whether Aria would come back to sleep tonight.
They'd even placed bets. Daisy was certain Aria would come back, while David strongly disagreed.
After all, no matter how much they were fighting, they weren't divorced yet, and the boss was pregnant.
And in his view, Mr. Grant had shown plenty of sincerity—first sending a $100,000 order, then going to all the trouble of driving from the city. What reason did the boss have not to forgive him?
But the result!
David felt bad about losing his two hundred dollars.
Aria didn't pay attention to their knowing looks. She was exhausted and just wanted to sleep.
But as soon as she entered the room, she was stunned.
The ceiling was leaking!
Large drops of yellow liquid—who knows what it was—had dripped all over the bed, making it dirty and completely unusable.
Good God, it was fine yesterday!
She quickly went to find the butler. When he came in and looked, he said, "Oh, this room probably hasn't been occupied in too long and the pipes are leaking. I'll arrange for someone to fix it tomorrow."
Aria looked at him.
The butler continued, "Ms. Hall, I'm truly sorry."
"The manor does have a few guest rooms, but they haven't been occupied in a long time. There's no bedding prepared and they're very dusty. I'm afraid there's no time to clean them up now."
"How about this—you stay in the master bedroom tonight. The master bed is very large. What do you think?"
Aria's face darkened.
"I think not!"