Chapter 137 She Belongs to Him
After Harriet's persistent begging and pleading, Tristan finally let her go.
Harriet's whole body went limp, without even the strength to stand steady, and she was covered in a thin layer of sweat.
Fortunately it was winter, so her clothes weren't soaked with sweat and she didn't need to shower immediately.
Harriet went to the bathroom to wash her face and tidied herself up briefly. After making sure she looked normal, she walked out of the side hall.
In the living room, Tristan was smoking and chatting with Finnegan. His stunningly handsome face showed no emotion, looking noble and restrained—completely different from how he'd been pressed against her going crazy just moments ago.
Harriet couldn't help cursing him over and over in her mind.
"Ms. Getty, where did you go?" Finnegan asked. "Haven't seen you for quite a while."
"I was just looking around too," Harriet said with a smile. "This place is beautiful."
"I've been touring around the whole time, how come I didn't see you?"
"We probably just missed each other."
"That makes sense, this place is pretty big."
Before long, Flora came to invite them to the dining room for dinner.
Dinner was quite lavish, and Flora's home cooking tasted pretty good.
The group ate and chatted, and the atmosphere was fairly pleasant.
Finnegan had work to handle, so he left right after eating.
Tristan also pulled Harriet up by the hand. "Thanks for having us. We should head home too."
Harriet couldn't help thinking back to what he'd said in the side hall, and nervously swallowed.
Flora stood up. "Alright, I'll see you out."
Tristan drove a sports car himself. He directly tucked Harriet into the passenger seat and drove all the way back to Lakeside Gardens.
As soon as they entered the house, Tristan couldn't wait to kiss her.
Luckily the lights in the house were off and Rhea wasn't there.
Otherwise Harriet would have wanted to find a crack in the floor to crawl into right then and there.
Before she could even react, Tristan was already kissing her while carrying her into the master bedroom.
The bedroom door was kicked shut by Tristan and never opened again.
Harriet couldn't remember at all how many times they had sex. She only knew that by the time it finally ended, she was so exhausted she had no strength left and passed out directly.
Flames flickered lightly as Tristan held a cigarette between his fingers, smoking quietly.
These past few days he'd been waiting for her to come to him first, waiting for her to give him an explanation.
But she didn't.
Not only did she not do that, she was getting all cozy with Griffin instead.
The two of them eating together, going out together, practically wanting to see each other every day.
He originally hadn't planned to accept Flora's invitation.
But in the end he went anyway.
He couldn't control his desire to possess her, to punish her, to make her know that she belonged to him.
Always would.
The next day.
When the doorbell rang, Tristan had just finished lunch.
Rhea, who was clearing the table, was about to answer the door when Tristan stopped her. "I'll get it."
When he saw Griffin standing outside the door, Tristan wasn't surprised. "Here for Harriet?"
"Yes. I went to the clinic looking for her and found out she'd taken the day off." Griffin looked worried. "What's wrong? Is she not feeling well?"
"No." Tristan smiled faintly. "She was worn out last night and couldn't get up. She's still sleeping now. Do you need me to wake her for you?"
A strange look flashed in Griffin's eyes, but it disappeared instantly. "No need. I don't have anything urgent. Let her rest well."
Tristan watched his retreating figure, a cold smile curving at the corner of his mouth.
When Harriet woke up, she had no idea what time it was.
The light from outside was blocked by blackout curtains. The master bedroom was completely dark, and the air still faintly carried the scent of their lovemaking.
Harriet stretched, feeling sore all over her body.
After recovering for quite a while, she finally picked up her phone from the nightstand—it was already past 2 PM!
Harriet got up and went to the bathroom to freshen up. When she came out, Rhea immediately came over.
"You must be starving! The food's been kept warm in the pot. I'll bring it right out for you."
Harriet was indeed starving. She drank two bowls of chicken soup and ate all the dishes Rhea had saved for her.
After eating her fill, her strength finally recovered, and only then did she ask, "Where's Tristan?"
"Mr. Lancaster went out. He said he had work to handle." Rhea asked, "Do you need me to call him?"
"No need."
Right now, Harriet's legs went weak just seeing him—she was totally scared!
"Just rest at home. Early this morning, Mr. Lancaster already called Mr. Jones and asked for the day off for you."
Harriet held her forehead. Tristan didn't give a specific reason for the leave, did he?
Now she'd never be able to face Ian again!
Since she'd taken the day off, Harriet stayed home to rest.
In the afternoon she stayed in the study practicing her medical skills, right up until nightfall when the study door was opened.
It was Tristan who came in.
"Come eat."
Harriet said nothing, packed up her things, and followed him to the dining room.
Rhea brought out the dishes, then stood respectfully to the side.
Tristan glanced at her, and Rhea immediately took the hint and bowed before leaving.
Tristan filled a bowl of soup and placed it in front of Harriet, saying in a low voice, "Are you still angry?"
Harriet picked up the small spoon and drank her soup. "Shouldn't I be angry?"
"I'm sorry." Tristan apologized. "It's been too long since we had sex. I lost control and hurt you."
At the beginning last night, he'd been too eager and she wasn't fully ready, so it hurt so much she broke out in a cold sweat.
Later he'd pleasured her for a long time before things got better.
Harriet looked up at him, her eyes stinging. "You think that's what I'm angry about?"
Tristan met her gaze. "Isn't it?"
"You've lied to me over and over again, and on top of that, you want to have sex anytime, anywhere, regardless of the time or place." Harriet accused. "Tristan, I'm your wife, not some tool you can use to get off whenever you feel like it!"
Tristan added food to her bowl. "I won't do it again. Now eat."
Harriet gave a bitter laugh.
His attitude was proof enough that he didn't think he was wrong—he was just brushing her off.
Harriet put down her utensils directly, got up, and went back to the master bedroom.
Tristan got up, and followed her in.
Harriet had already lain down, burying her head under the covers.
"Harriet." Tristan pulled back the covers. "Go eat first. We can talk things through slowly."
"Talk about what?" Harriet held back her tears. "Can I even get through to you? When has communicating with you ever worked? Our communication is always useless!"
"Then who can you communicate with effectively? Griffin?" Tristan's expression darkened slightly as he gave a cold laugh. "Oh right, with how close you two are, naturally you have that special connection. Some things don't even need to be said out loud—you just understand each other perfectly, right?"
"Or you could be even more direct—you think he's more like your husband than I am, right?"