Chapter 155

Chapter 155

Serena's POV

"Ethan!" I shot him a glare, my cheeks burning like they'd been scorched by fire. "Say one more word and I'm done taking care of you!"

"Okay, okay, I'll shut up." He quickly raised both hands in surrender, his tone laced with indulgent affection. "I'll take it off, alright?"

He slowly undid the first button of his shirt, his movements unhurried. His slender fingers traced past his collarbone with a casual, languid grace. Light filtered through the blinds, casting faint shadows across his profile.

My gaze flickered away, yet I couldn't help stealing glances at him.

Then I saw the wounds.

The bite marks on his forearm hadn't fully scabbed over yet—dark red scars ringed by faint bruising, the blood vessels beneath showing a pale purple at the edges. His back bore several crisscrossing scratches, already treated with ointment. The faint smell of antiseptic hung in the air, but the varying depths of those marks made it painfully clear how brutal it had been. Most striking was the wound on his chest—surgical stitches still in place, fine sutures holding together a deep red scar that ran long and horrifyingly vivid.

Tears fell from my eyes without warning.

I reached out, my fingertips landing gently on the bite mark on his forearm. That slight touch of skin against skin made him tremble faintly.

"Does it hurt?" My voice came out hoarse. "It must have hurt so much then. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have—"

"It's not your fault."

He cut me off, pulling me into his embrace with movements so gentle they seemed afraid of breaking something fragile. His chest was broad and warm. My forehead rested against the hollow of his shoulder, and I could feel his slow, steady breathing.

"It's my fault for not protecting you, for letting you suffer so much. When you lost control, I didn't feel any pain at all. I was only afraid you'd hurt yourself."

I leaned against him, tears soaking his shirt, hot and spreading across the fabric.

I don't know how long passed before I slowly straightened up, lowered my head, and gently pressed my lips to the bite mark on his forearm—that rough scar texture against my lips made my heart feel like it was being squeezed, a dull ache spreading through me. Then I turned to his back, kissing those scratches, my lips trailing inch by inch over the scent of antiseptic. Finally, I pressed my face beside the sutured wound on his chest, my warm breath falling on his skin. I felt him stiffen slightly, even his breathing controlled, as if afraid to break something.

"Ethan, I'm sorry." My voice was soft, as if afraid it would be scattered by the air. "I'll never let you get hurt again."

I meant it.

He fell silent for a few seconds.

Then he lowered his head and kissed my lips.

The kiss was gentle, filled with tenderness and cherishing, slowly deepening until we were both breathless. He pressed his forehead against mine, his lashes almost falling, his voice roughened: "Silly girl, what are you apologizing to me for? As long as you're okay, what does it matter if I get hurt?"

My hand rested on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat pulsing into my fingertips, the heat in my cheeks refusing to fade.

Suddenly the ward door was thrown open.

Owen strode in, his gaze sweeping over us before his expression darkened instantly. "Ethan! You bastard! Serena just woke up, her body hasn't recovered, and you're already pulling this kind of thing on her!"

We both froze, quickly separating.

Ethan hastily grabbed his shirt from the edge of the bed. My cheeks flushed red to my ears, sitting on the bedside utterly flustered, unable to even organize a defense, my mind a complete mess.

"Dad, you've got it wrong! We weren't doing anything! Serena just wanted to check my wounds, what just happened was an accident."

"An accident?" Owen didn't believe it at all, pointing at Ethan's nose, his voice loud enough that the next ward over could probably hear. "An accident gets you kissing? I think you just lost your head! Serena suffered so much, and instead of properly caring for her, you take advantage of her vulnerability! Today I'm going to teach you a lesson!"

I quickly got up from the bed to intervene: "Owen, please don't be angry, it really was a misunderstanding, we were just—"

The words stuck in my throat.

I couldn't very well say I had initiated kissing his wounds—no matter how I explained it, it would only make things worse.

In this tense standoff, Lucas rushed in, swept a glance over Ethan's disheveled state, and immediately formed a mischievous smirk, winking suggestively at Ethan.

"Lucas, throw this boy out!" Owen ordered angrily.

"Mission accepted!" Lucas responded solemnly in Owen's tone, grabbing Ethan's sleeve and dragging him toward the door. "Mr. Ethan Blackwood, you'd better go lay low, stop making Mr. Owen Blackwood angry here. Serena just woke up, she can't handle all this commotion!"

Before leaving, Ethan glanced at me, his eyes holding both helplessness and the awkwardness of being caught red-handed like a kid. I nodded at him, signaling him to leave first.

He sighed, shuffling toward the door with slow steps, but couldn't resist turning back at the threshold: "Dad, don't get too upset. I'll explain everything later. Serena, rest well."

I nodded, watching him being half-dragged, half-coaxed out by Lucas. The ward door closed behind them, and I quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

What a sudden misunderstanding that had been.

Owen was still muttering angrily: "Don't let him near you again! He's completely improper!"

"Owen, please calm down, Ethan didn't mean any harm." I guided him toward the chair by the bed. "Please sit down and rest. He wasn't being malicious, really."

I chatted with him for a while, and Owen's anger gradually subsided by half. Lucas coaxed him out, the ward door closed again, and I leaned back against the headboard, rubbing my temples.

What an eventful morning it had been.

---

Not long after, the ward door was gently pushed open again.

Ethan poked his head in, glanced left and right, and only after confirming I was alone did he tiptoe in, wearing a pained expression: "Dad finally left. I almost got my leg broken earlier."

I couldn't help but laugh: "Who told you not to be more careful? Getting caught by him like that."

He leaned closer, deliberately putting on an innocent expression to tease me: "Wasn't it because you initiated kissing me? Now look, I'm the beast."

"Stop bringing it up!" I glared at him, my cheeks heating up again. "Mention it one more time and you're not staying here today!"

He quickly raised his hands in surrender, sitting down by the bed and tucking in the corner of my blanket. "Okay, okay, I won't mention it. Are you hungry? I brought you chicken soup. Drink some while it's hot."

He placed the thermal container on the bedside table and unscrewed the lid. Rich, savory aroma wafted out, warm and carrying a hint of thyme's herbal scent.

The ward door opened again.

I looked up.

Marcus stood in the doorway, his face haggard, dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept well in days. His eyes lit up the moment he saw me, then immediately clouded with something cautious.

"Serena, you're awake." He stood at the door without immediately entering, his voice carrying obvious hesitation. "May I... may I come in to see you?"

Seeing him, the smile faded from my face, my tone flat: "What is it?"

Those years of suffering, all the accusations and difficulties I'd endured—they couldn't be erased with a single sentence. Especially thinking about how Dragon had hurt me while Marcus, as my father, had been kept in the dark and enabled it all for so long, I found it hard to feel any closeness toward him.

Marcus walked in, stopping several steps away from me, as if not daring to come closer, his voice low: "Serena, I'm sorry. I was foolish before, deceived by Jade, letting you suffer so much. I've already decided—I'm divorcing her. I won't let her hurt you anymore."

He paused, a hint of hesitation creeping into his voice: "But... Jade says she's pregnant, with my child. Don't worry, I won't forgive her just because of a baby."

The word "pregnant" landed in my ears, and my brow furrowed slightly.

Jade wasn't pregnant earlier, wasn't pregnant later, but just happened to announce her pregnancy right when Marcus formally asked for a divorce.

The timing was too convenient.

But I didn't say it aloud.

Those suspicions had no solid evidence yet. Speaking them would only make me seem unreasonably paranoid. And besides—I was truly exhausted right now.

I nodded faintly: "Your affairs are yours to decide. If there's nothing else, you should go back. I want to rest."

Marcus opened his mouth, hesitating, his Adam's apple bobbing, but finally only managed: "Then rest well. I'll come visit you another day."

He turned around, his lonely figure disappearing through the doorway.

Ethan watched the door, then turned his gaze back to me: "You think there's something off about Jade's pregnancy?"

"Yes." I said, "Too convenient."

I rested my hand on the edge of the bed, my fingertips unconsciously rubbing the edge of the blanket: "If she's really pregnant, why didn't she say so earlier or later, but chose the exact moment Marcus wants to divorce her? Given her personality—this kind of bargaining chip, she would have flaunted it long ago. She wouldn't have waited until now to bring it up."

Ethan fell silent for a moment, something in his eyes slowly deepening.

He didn't speak, only steadily pushed the container of chicken soup toward me.