Seeing Leland Burns enter, Winifred Dawson, who was kneeling on the ground, seemed startled. The “pearl” she was holding slipped from her hand and bounced away. She looked at Leland Burns, then at the pearl on the floor, unsure whether to pick it up.
While she hesitated, Leland Burns had already come over and lifted her up.
Her cashmere coat was dirty, soaked with milk tea, and stained yellow on the white fabric, with cream smeared on her.
Leland Burns easily picked her up, his expression serious as he looked down at her.
“Who taught you to eat food off the floor?”
Winifred Dawson shrank back, her hands that were about to embrace Leland Burns retracted. Stammering in response to his question, she said, “They said you don’t like people wasting food and that I should eat cleanly or you’d get angry…”
Leland Burns frowned, his dark eyes clouded with a stormy gloom. Was this what they taught her while he was away? To scare her?
His throat tightened as he spoke with difficulty, “Don’t eat things that fall on the ground. Let the servants clean it up. I won’t get mad at you.”
“Why can’t I eat things off the ground? I’m trash; I’m a dog. Aren’t I supposed to eat dirty things off the floor?”
She was confusing herself with his past self again.
Whenever Winifred Dawson had memory lapses and directional disorientation, he would involuntarily be drawn into his own past because it stirred various emotions within him-pity, anger, frustration.
Initially, when the servants told him that Winifred Dawson’s condition worsened unpredictably after he left, he didn’t quite believe it. He had taken her to see a psychologist before, but even they couldn’t explain her condition specifically. After several examinations and medication adjustments, her condition remained stable without any signs of worsening.
But now, after just one day of his absence, she had become so muddled that she couldn’t even speak clearly.
He didn’t know what to do with the current Winifred Dawson. In the past, she could treat him like trash or a dog, but he couldn’t bring himself to treat her that way.
“You are not trash or a dog. I will never let you eat food off the floor.”
Winifred Dawson was filthy; there was no suitable place to put her down. He decided to take her directly to the bathroom for a bath.
It wasn’t Leland Burns’ first time bathing Winifred Dawson. When she was injured and bedridden in the hospital, he would bring water to wipe her body. He had seen her body countless times.
He was also a man. Faced with the woman he liked being so defenseless in front of him, he would have thoughts and reactions. But he wouldn’t touch Winifred Dawson at this moment.
Wanting to but unable to act on it-Winifred Dawson now was akin to a child mentally impaired; doing anything to her would fill him with guilt.
He filled the bathtub with hot water and dropped in two bath bombs. After undressing Winifred Dawson, he carefully helped her into the tub.
Winifred Dawson was somewhat afraid of bathing; Leland Burns always had to coax her into the bathroom for a bath and hair wash.
He guessed this fear stemmed from the heavy rain on the night she got injured, leaving her with a shadow over water.
From head to toe, he washed her thoroughly. Halfway through, Winifred Dawson leaned over and fell asleep.
They say that being able to fall asleep in such a situation means she completely trusts you and feels utterly safe.
After quickly washing her body, Leland Burns wrapped Winifred Dawson in a large two-meter-long bath towel and lifted her out of the tub.
The sudden movement woke Winifred Dawson briefly. She glanced at him before closing her eyes again and murmuring indistinctly, “I missed you so much…”
At that moment, Leland Burns felt an overwhelming softness in his heart.
Holding her like a doll in his arms, he cradled her with one hand while reaching for the hairdryer with the other. Realizing it was impractical to dry her hair one-handedly, he laid Winifred Dawson down with her head resting on his knee.
Even under the blow dryer’s warmth, she didn’t open her eyes. Leland Burns couldn’t help but smile; some ingrained habits were hard to change-like being accustomed to being served.
It took over ten minutes to dry her long hair completely. Setting aside the hairdryer, Leland Burns gently touched her now soft and fluffy hair.
“How did you end up like this?” Leland Burns muttered to himself.
“Are you still the Winifred Dawson I love? The old Winifred would never lie naked beside me without any defense; she wouldn’t call herself a dog or pick up scraps from the floor to eat. She wouldn’t worry about me being angry and ignoring her either. But… you’re good like this too… At least now you finally notice me; you won’t leave me…”
To him, Winifred Dawson wasn’t perfect anymore but having her by his side was better than anything else.
He gently held Winifred Dawson’s hand. Once it healed back to its original state, they would get married. He would choose the most beautiful ring for her.
With the bedroom in disarray, Leland Burns made a call downstairs for a servant to come clean up. Hearing Winifred Dawson’s steady breathing confirmed she was truly asleep. He got up and opened his laptop to check the surveillance footage from when he wasn’t around that day.
The servants’ descriptions were one thing; seeing it himself gave him another perspective entirely.