Having had finished his porridge, Fitch wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin beside him.
Zoey, ever so perceptive of the moment, began to gather the dishes from the table, ready to wash them
in the kitchen.
He gave her a glance as she picked up a nearby apron and tied it around herself. The apron was black
with a touch of lace.
Balancing the dishes, she headed to the kitchen, and soon the sound of running water filled the air
Fitch remained seated at the dining table. He wasn’t someone to panic at the slightest inconvenience.
He had woken up with his mind nearly a blank slate, only to find an unfamiliar room and a woman he
did not recognize
He didn’t bother asking where he was or who he was. Such questions seemed pointless; if his amnesia
was injury–induced, memories would eventually resurface.
When Zoey returned from the kitchen, he extended a hand, silently asking her to help him back to his
room.
Zoey was still unsure about the extent of his memory loss, but the doctor had mentioned that his
injuries were severe. Had it not been for his robust constitution, he might not have made it. Yet here he
was, recovering at an astonishing rate.
After she assisted him to his room, his gaze fell upon the neatly made cot with a folded blanket.
His eyes then drifted to the half open wardrobe, finding his clothes pressed and arranged with care.
Weirdly, he felt an overwhelming sense of comfort out of no reason.
Her actions spoke volumes, they weren’t a couple, nor was there any hint of unrequited love, yet she
was so attentive.
There was only one plausible explanation.
They must have been married and were now divorced.
That would explain her eagerness to deny their relationship, even claiming they were merely friends.
As Zoey helped him onto the bed, he instinctively wrapped his hands around her waist. She didn’t
resist.
In front of Fitch, Zoey had lost the courage to say no. When Fitch decided he wanted her, there was no
preamble; he was direct and overpowering, leaving no room for her to react, let alone refuse
So she learned to be obedient and to adapt to his roughness.
Observing her expression, Fitch noticed that when his hand rested on her
He slowly moved the other hand, encircling her waist completely. Still,
she remained silent.
If they were just friends, his behavior would have been a clear overstep, and possibly win him a slap on
the face.
His suspicions seemed confirmed–they were divorced.
She wanted to avoid any impropriety, but the natural responses of her body couldn’t lie; they had been
intimate
“Got a tablet? I feel like watching a movie.”
He couldn’t recollect anything for now, and watching movies or reading seemed to be his only pastime.
Zoey was surprised, she expected him to inquire about his current situation after settling down. But he
seemed completely at ease, as if on
vacation
Perhaps this was the confidence of someone raised in an affluent family.
“Yeah, I’ll grab it for you.”
She fetched the tablet from downstairs and handed it to him.
Fitch pointed upwards, “Turn off the brightest light, will you?”
“Sure”
She quickly dimmed the lights, leaving only the soft glow of the bedside lamp.
Fitch settled into a sci–fi movie, propping himself up with a pillow, his eyes fixed on the screen.
Zoey sat on her own bed, witnessing a side of Fitch she had never seen before Usually, after he put on
clothes, his only words to her would be, “You can leave”
Rarely did he allow her to stay the night, and for those few exceptions, it was because he was
particularly enthusiastic, spending the whole night
with her.
This previous image of Fitch was almost unrecognizable
Without his harsh words, he seemed different
She lowered her eyelashes, not daring to interrupt, and instead went downstairs to prepare a plate of
fruit.
She had cut the fruit into whimsical and delightful animal shapes, each piece adorned with a toothpick
Setting up a small table beside his bed, she arranged the fruit plate and placed a glass of warm water
beside it.
As he noticed her efforts, Fitch, with his gaze on the tablet, felt the same sensation of comfort wash
over his body.
As she was about to return to her own bed, he patted the space beside him.
“Come sit here”
“Huh?
Zoey was taken aback; aside from when he desired her, there were strict boundaries between them.
Fitch, being one not to repeat himself, patted the bed again.
With a hint of trepidation, Zoey slipped off her shoes and cautiously crawled under the covers next to
him.
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