But Marilyn never wanted any of this; she didn’t lack any of it. What she wanted was for this man to be with her for a lifetime.
Was it possible? No, it wasn’t.
Nelson would never give her the chance to ask for such a condition.
In the end, she didn’t ask. Marilyn looked at him longingly, “Nelson, if I keep this promise, can I see you occasionally?”
Seeing him occasionally was already the greatest luxury.
Nelson looked at her deeply, “Marilyn, be good.”
Marilyn’s eyes filled with tears, unable to control her sadness, and she began to cry bitterly.
“Later, she went abroad and hasn’t returned since.” Nelson toyed with the idle prayer beads on the bedside table, speaking indifferently as if it had nothing to do with him.
Callie listened intently, “So Jaquan resents you because of Marilyn.”
“I heard he went abroad several times but couldn’t meet Marilyn.” Nelson smiled faintly, “Taking photos in hotels, slitting her wrist, and not returning from abroad-he blames all these things on me. How could he not hate me?”
Callie felt indignant on his behalf, “But none of this is your fault.”
Nelson glanced at the time; it was late. “Does it make a difference?”
She was at a loss for words. It seemed there was no clear distinction; at least there was a direct connection.
Jaquan had once told her that there had been women around Nelson. Now it seemed like it was Marilyn.
Callie somewhat understood. He had already put down the prayer beads, “It’s time to sleep.”
In the dark, she clutched the corner of the blanket, feeling the constant presence of his masculine aura beside her. She felt a bit nervous and suddenly asked, “Nelson, with Marilyn pursuing you so relentlessly, did you ever feel moved?”
His answer was neither quick nor slow, “No.”
Such a direct response.
For some reason, after hearing his reply, she quickly fell asleep as if reassured.
With someone sleeping next to her, Callie wasn’t used to it and instinctively moved toward the middle until she bumped into his warm body and woke up abruptly in the dark.
Nelson was a light sleeper and woke up from the disturbance. His voice was hoarse, “What’s wrong?”
Callie didn’t dare move or admit she was awake and maintained her position, pretending to sleep.
After a moment without a response, he gently covered her with the blanket, his movements slow and tender.
In the darkness, Callie heard her heart pounding; it was a feeling unique to being moved by a man.
The next afternoon, she planned to visit Reuben in the hospital. Bianca insisted on accompanying her as she didn’t feel safe letting Callie go alone.
Bridger had arranged everything meticulously. Every day he would bring Joaquin to take care of their father. Perhaps due to suffering and hardship, Joaquin had become diligent and very attentive.
That day, Callie informed Bridger and didn’t let Joaquin come over.
In the hospital room, she chatted with Reuben for a while before Tobias walked in. “Callie.”
Callie stood up, “Tobias, I came to see Dad.”
Tobias’s gaze fell on her hand, his pupils contracting. “I heard recently that you were admitted to our hospital with a broken arm. I was just about to find you when I learned you had been discharged. Are you feeling better now?”
“Much better, Tobias. You don’t need to worry. The cast will come off soon.” Callie answered nervously under Bianca’s watchful eyes.
Tobias didn’t care about anyone else. “How did the car accident happen?”
“… It was an accident.”
Tobias frowned even more tightly. “Was it related to him?”