Chapter 100 What Happened Last Night?
So what exactly had happened last night?
Ethan already had a pretty good idea, but his chest still felt like someone was crushing it in a vise.
He stood frozen in place, unable to make himself go inside.
Behind him, Carol watched the whole scene and couldn't help but shake her head.
The world was full of hopeless romantics setting themselves up for heartbreak.
...
Matilda was in an exceptionally good mood today.
Thinking about last night's sudden storm, their tent getting blown away, and the two of them huddled together in Wentworth's jeep made her want to smile.
Every time she unconsciously grinned, Ethan felt another stab of pain in his chest.
That afternoon, Wentworth called asking if she wanted to stay at his quarters tonight.
Matilda had been wavering, but one look at Ethan and she immediately said yes.
Even though they had separate rooms, spending evenings alone in the same courtyard—a man and woman with all that tension—could lead to misunderstandings.
She didn't want to give Wentworth any reason to worry.
Hearing her side of the phone conversation, Ethan realized she'd be gone again tonight.
The bitter ache in his chest crashed over him like a wave.
That evening, Matilda packed a travel bag with fresh clothes, toiletries, and slippers.
"Staying out tonight?" Ethan asked.
Matilda nodded, adding, "I won't be back, so make sure you take your key when you go out."
Ethan pressed on. "Is it because I'm here? Am I making things awkward for you?"
"A little," Matilda admitted honestly.
She didn't actually enjoy staying at Wentworth's quarters—the whole place felt too serious and rigid.
But in a small town like this, finding suitable alternative housing on short notice wasn't exactly easy.
Ethan smiled bitterly.
When he wasn't here, maybe they hadn't been this close yet. His arrival had somehow become a catalyst for their relationship to heat up.
"I'm heading out then. If there's an emergency overnight or anything you can't handle, call me. I'll leave the car keys by the door—use it if you need to."
Ethan nodded. "Alright. Have a good night."
...
Matilda called an old pickup truck that served as a local taxi to take her to Wentworth's quarters.
She could have asked Wentworth to pick her up, but he was always busy with work. She didn't want to disrupt his schedule for her sake.
Besides, military guys were different from civilians. Being together 24/7 probably wasn't the best idea anyway.
Arriving at Wentworth's quarters, she was immediately surrounded by military-green equipment cases, perfectly aligned boots, and prominent motivational signs on the walls. The atmosphere made her instinctively soften her breathing.
Way too serious.
Wentworth was still at work, so she sat in his room by herself.
His desk was covered with files and thick technical manuals—radar systems, tactical communications, military engineering... She flipped through a few pages but couldn't make heads or tails of any of it.
The reading made her drowsy, and she ended up falling asleep with her head on the desk.
After some time, she felt someone gently wiping the corner of her mouth.
She opened her eyes to see Wentworth's amused face.
She immediately covered her mouth.
This drooling-in-her-sleep habit was absolutely mortifying!
"What were you dreaming about?" Wentworth asked with a grin.
"I wasn't dreaming."
"Must have been something delicious, judging by the drool," he teased.
Then he pulled her into his arms.
"No dreams, but I am actually hungry," she said with a pout.
Wentworth laughed. "Perfect timing. I grabbed some dinner from the mess hall."
He brought over two stainless steel containers—one with meatballs and mashed potatoes, the other with honey-glazed pork chops and cornbread.
"It's all pork!" Her eyes lit up.
"Pick whichever one you want," Wentworth said.
"Can I try a little of both?"
"Of course. We're married—no need to be formal about it."
She tried to get up from his lap to sit in another chair, but Wentworth wouldn't let go, insisting she stay right where she was.
"How am I supposed to eat like this?"
"Feed me," he said with a roguish grin.
"No way!" She squirmed, but the movement pressed against a certain sensitive area of his anatomy. Afraid of getting him worked up, she stopped struggling.
So she picked up the container and took a bite for herself, then fed him one.
Every time Wentworth opened his mouth for the fork, he deliberately lingered, his eyes burning into hers until her heart raced.
A piece of corn rolled off the fork and landed on his chest.
He could easily have gotten it himself, but his arms stayed locked around her.
She reached to pick it up, but the kernel rolled further down, coming to rest below his belt line...
She looked up at him. He maintained that "I'm not moving, you get it" expression.
She had to pinch it between two fingers, her face burning red.
The whole meal left her flustered and breathless.
After dinner, he held her close, his hand tracing gentle patterns on her back like he was petting a cat.
About ten minutes later, Wentworth's phone rang. After a brief conversation, he said softly, "I have to pull night duty. I'll be back in the early morning to be with you. Take a shower and get some sleep, okay?"
"You have to work tonight?" Matilda felt deflated. She'd been looking forward to spending the whole night with him.
"I'll make it quick, sweetheart." Wentworth kissed her forehead and held her for a while longer before reluctantly leaving.
She was alone in the quarters.
After washing up and getting into bed, she found the cell signal was terrible—her phone was practically useless, and she couldn't focus on reading.
She'd already napped earlier, so she wasn't tired at all. She ended up staring at the military training slogans on the wall.
She didn't drift off until well past midnight.
...
Back at the clinic, Ethan sat alone in the courtyard.
The town's internet was spotty, and once darkness fell, the streets became eerily quiet except for the light still glowing from the restaurant.
The weather had been getting warmer lately, bringing more tourists back to Stoneford Town.
Bored out of his mind, Ethan wandered back to the restaurant.
There were two tables of tourists eating dinner, and Carol was at the register handling payments.
Seeing Ethan walk in, she looked up from across the room. "Haven't had dinner yet?"
Ethan approached the bar and glanced at the liquor cabinet behind her. "Two beers."
"With your tolerance? You're not worried about getting plastered again and not making it home?"
"Beer won't hurt me," Ethan said.
"Besides beer, what else you want?"
"How about the smoked beef platter?"
"Grab that table over there. I'll bring it right out," Carol said.
Ethan paused, looking at her with surprise.
Carol looked puzzled. "Why are you staring at me?"
A chatty tourist at a nearby table laughed. "Hey, boss lady, you're really gonna serve this guy alcohol?"