Chapter 153 He Watched Over Her All Night; His Shirt Was Soaked Through Without Touching Her

Chapter 153 He Watched Over Her All Night; His Shirt Was Soaked Through Without Touching Her

The gaps when she was lucid were getting shorter. The stretches of confusion were getting longer.

When the confusion took over, her hands would reach for whatever was closest without her control. And what was closest was Adrian.

Her wet arms wrapped around his neck again. Elodie surfaced from the water, and somehow her lips found his jawline.

Adrian went rigid.

His throat moved as he swallowed.

He didn't push her away.

But he didn't move either.

After a few seconds, he reached up and gripped her chin, tilting her face toward his.

"Elodie."

Her eyes were half-open, unfocused, water droplets caught on her lashes.

"Do you know who I am?"

Elodie stared at him through the haze for a long time—long enough that Adrian thought she'd stopped hearing anything at all.

Then she spoke. The words scraped out of her throat one by one.

"Adrian."

His hand stilled.

A second later, he pushed her back down into the cold water. When he spoke, his voice had gone rough.

"Hold on."

That night stretched on like it would never end.

Adrian changed the water three times.

Each time Elodie's body heat warmed the bath, he drained it and ran cold water again. The sound of the pipes was loud in the quiet night, over and over.

When she was lucid, she would press herself into the far corner of the tub, teeth chattering, holding herself together without making a sound.

When the confusion took her, she grabbed his shirt like a drowning person grabbing driftwood, knuckles white, fingers locked so tight they couldn't be pried loose.

Adrian sat on the floor beside the tub the whole time.

His shirt had soaked through long ago, clinging to him, the fabric carrying a strange warmth from the cold water and her body heat. His hair was wet too, the strands at his forehead pushed back to expose the hard line of his brow.

He didn't touch her.

Not once, through all of it. Nothing happened between them.

Time passed. The sky outside went from black to deep blue, then to a pale gray.

The hand gripping his shirt finally let go.

Elodie slumped against the side of the tub, completely drained, like something pulled from the water—which, in a way, she was. She'd been in it all night. Her lips had gone purple. Her fingers were wrinkled and waterlogged. But her mind was clear. Fully, genuinely clear.

She turned her head and saw him.

Adrian was leaning against the outside of the tub, one knee bent, arm resting on it, eyes shot through with red. His shirt was a wrinkled mess stuck to his skin. The back of his hand still showed the cuts from last night, the scabs dried and then softened by water, raw-looking.

He hadn't slept at all.

They looked at each other for a moment.

The bathroom was so quiet you could hear each drop of water falling into the tub.

Elodie spoke first, her voice soft. "Thank you."

Adrian looked up at the sound, glanced at her, his expression unreadable.

He pushed himself to his feet and stood over her.

A few seconds of silence.

"Don't drink things from strangers."

He turned and walked out of the bathroom. The moment the door clicked shut, the tendons on the back of his hand stood out sharp against the door handle.

The hallway was empty.

The figure in purple from the night before was long gone.

Adrian leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell hard.

Elodie was woken by the ache in every part of her body.

She lay there without moving.

She opened her eyes and stared at an unfamiliar ceiling for a while.

The cabin curtains were drawn tight, just a thin line of light leaking in at the edge. She couldn't tell what time it was.

On the nightstand sat a glass of water, two liver-support tablets beside it, and a folded note tucked under the glass.

Elodie propped herself up on one elbow. The movement pulled at her back and she hissed through her teeth. She looked down at herself—she was wearing clean clothes she didn't remember putting on, and her hair was half-dry, like someone had toweled it off.

Ellie must have changed her.

The memories from last night came back in pieces, like a broken puzzle—mostly a blur of heat and cold water, but a few moments came through sharp and clear.

Someone carrying her a long way.

Someone saying it's me close to her ear.

Someone sitting beside the tub all night without moving.

Elodie raised her hand and covered her face.

After a while, she lowered it and picked up the note.

Take your medicine on time.

She stared at those few words for a long time.

Then she folded the note carefully and slipped it into the notebook she always kept with her.

She took the medicine, drank the water, and made herself get up and wash her face. The person in the mirror looked pale, lips a little cracked, the back of her neck and her hands covered in red marks from her own nails.

A mess.

But at least she was clear-headed.

The door swung open and Ellie came in carrying a bowl of oatmeal. When she saw Elodie standing at the sink, her eyes went red on the spot.

"Why aren't you still in bed!"

"What time is it?"

"Two in the afternoon. You slept almost ten hours." Ellie set the bowl on the table and came over to look her up and down as if she were checking for damage. "Are you okay? Do you need the doctor again?"

Elodie shook her head. "I'm fine."

Ellie steered her into a chair and held a spoon up to her mouth. "Eat first."

Elodie didn't argue. She took the bowl and drank a few slow spoonfuls. The warm oatmeal moved down her throat and she felt a little more human.

Ellie sat across from her, bit her lip, and finally couldn't hold it back. "Last night… those guys…"

"What about them?"

"I told Lucas." Ellie pulled out her phone and showed her the messages. "He said someone already took care of it. They got dragged out of their rooms in the middle of the night and beaten, and now they're locked in the lower deck. They'll be handed over to the police when we dock."

Elodie's hands went still on the bowl.

"Who did it?"

Ellie looked at her.

"Was it Lucas?"

"Lucas said it wasn't him." Ellie cleared her throat, choosing her words carefully. "What he actually said was, 'What do you think?'"

The room was quiet for a moment.

Elodie didn't respond. She looked down and kept drinking her oatmeal.

Ellie held back as long as she could, then gave up. "I know he helped last night. But I'm saying this upfront—even if he did, that doesn't cancel out everything he's done before. What he owes you, he still owes."

Elodie made a small sound of acknowledgment.

"That's all you've got?"

"What else should I say?" Elodie glanced up. "He helped, I said thank you. Isn't that how it works?"

Ellie made a dissatisfied noise but didn't push further.

Elodie finished the oatmeal and lay back down for another hour before the ache in her body started to ease.

The doctor came back to check on her, confirmed her temperature and heart rate were stable for now, and told her no alcohol and no strenuous activity for the next twenty-four hours. If she felt dizzy or had any tightness in her chest, she needed to come back to the medical room immediately.

Elodie said yes to all of it. But she already knew she couldn't miss this chance to meet the Windsor Group's representative. It was too rare an opportunity.

Her phone had several unread messages waiting.