Divorce? No Regrets! She Becomes the Elite's Beloved Wife Chapter 41: Have You... Changed Your Mind?

In the bedroom of The Lockwood Villa, Adrian Lockwood was as restless as a lion.

There was nothing in the dressing table drawers nor in the storage cabinet in the walk-in closet.

The living room was a ss with the TV cabinet storage boxes turned over.

He even searched the storage room again.

Nowhere to be found.

His temples throbbed violently.

His stomach ached in waves, piercingly painful.

As if an excavator was rumbling through his stomach.

He picked up his phone again, Serena Sinclair still hadn’t replied.

But the ssage showed it had been read.

Clearly it was unread over ten minutes ago, thinking that it was so late, it was normal for her to be asleep.

But she had seen it, yet she ignored it?

The fla of anger reached its peak in that instant.

Adrian Lockwood almost dialed Serena Sinclair in a fury.

Beep.

Beep beep.

The eternal sound of the beeping.

He called several tis, but Serena didn’t answer.

His stomach pain made him double over like a shrimp, his face darkened as he hung up and called the maid.

"Sir, the dicine box is in the cabinet under the middle island. But your stomach dicine is in the bedside drawer, you should pull it open and check."

Adrian was stunned.

Dragging heavy steps back to the bedroom, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled open the drawer.

Stomach dicine.

Hangover redy.

Multivitamin supplents.

The few types of dicine he regularly took were all within reach in the bedside drawer.

Yet he couldn’t find them despite almost overturning the whole house.

The instructions indicated the dosage.

Yet the box had colorful labels put on by Serena.

Three tis a day.

Two pills each ti.

Strikingly noticeable.

He took out two pills, swallowed them, and leaned back against the headboard, gradually relaxing his tense nerves.

Yet the fury in his heart did not diminish one bit.

She obviously saw it.

Yet she dared not reply!

How could she!

How could she be so heartless?

Lost in angry thoughts, he didn’t even know when he fell asleep.

As the morning light broke, Adrian awoke from a nightmare.

Without washing up or changing into pajama.

Not even covered with a quilt.

He had actually slept the whole night leaning against the bedpost like this.

His gloomy face reflected in the bathroom mirror, all traces of his usual handsoness gone.

As his thoughts wandered, a sharp pain struck his chin.

Seeing the blood oozing from the wound, Adrian’s face beca even angrier.

...

Hillcrest Villa.

When Serena Sinclair ca down the stairs, Wyatt Hawthorne was already up.

He looked weary, his spirits seed low.

His voice was thick with nasal tone, "Breakfast is ready, eat it and let the driver take you..."

"Okay."

Serena walked to the dining table and sat down to eat.

Seeing Wyatt had no intention of eating, Serena turned back and asked him, "Aren’t you eating?"

Wyatt shook his head, "You go ahead."

Before leaving she specifically reminded him to rember to take his dicine after als.

Serena changed shoes and headed out.

As the elevator doors closed, she faintly overheard Wyatt asking the chef, "Is there any preserved egg and pork congee?"

Serena’s heart slightly eased.

If he’s willing to eat properly, getting well is just a matter of ti.

But after work, stepping out of the company and seeing the driver looking as anxious as an ant on a hot pot, Serena’s brow twitched, "What’s wrong?"

"The cat is fine, it’s the young master..."

The driver explained, "This morning the young master wanted preserved egg and pork congee, but the chef tried several variations and he didn’t like any of them. What’s more, he’s been running a fever repeatedly and looks very weak. The butler said to find you, the young master got very angry."

"Alright, let’s go over and see."

Serena descended the steps.

The driver didn’t move.

Serena took out her phone to call Wyatt.

Beep.

Beep beep.

The phone rang for a long ti before connecting, "Senior..."

His voice soft and weak.

In Serena’s mind, the image of 2S lying lethargically on the carpet suddenly appeared.

"Besides preserved egg and pork congee, what else would you like to eat?"

Serena’s voice gentle, "I’ve bought groceries, I’ll co over and cook for you."

"Senior..."

Wyatt called her senior but then fell silent.

"Wyatt?"

Serena called out, but there was no further response.

Heart tightening, Serena turned to the anxious-looking driver, "Let’s go, and I’ll say it was who asked you to co pick up."

"Thank you, Ms. Sinclair!"

The driver thanked her, swiftly opening the car door with a stride.

After Serena got into the car, he slid back into the driver’s seat.

The business vehicle rged into the traffic like a shadow.

When Serena entered, the air was filled with a light fragrance of at congee.

On the middle island several bowls of preserved egg and pork congee were laid out.

Extra preserved egg.

Extra lean at.

With scallions and ginger.

Without scallions and ginger.

Each looked like it had been touched, yet untouched.

The old butler’s face had gained a few more wrinkles out of worry, "It’s been a day, aside from a few trial bites, he hasn’t eaten anything. The young master said...he has no appetite."

"Alright, I understand!"

Serena nodded and first went to check on the sleeping Wyatt.

Rolling up her sleeves, she imrsed herself in the kitchen.

The refrigerator was packed full with ingredients: flying in the sky, running on the ground, swimming in the water, everything was available.

She took half a hen and used the pressure cooker to make soup.

Serena kneaded and rolled out hand-made noodles.

She prepared chicken noodle soup with double the usual amount of white pepper.

Before it was ready, Serena knocked on the door, "Wyatt, it’s ti to eat!"

As if activating a chanism, the unmoving figure on the big bed stirred and sat up.

His gaze at Serena shifted from confused to deep, "...Alright!"

When Wyatt sat at the dining table, there were several cold dishes laid out.

Very similar preparations to those from last midnight, only the vegetables differed.

In the bowl brought to him was chicken noodle soup, with noodles as thick as chopsticks.

Handing him the chopsticks, Serena poured a ladle of bright red chili oil into his noodle soup, along with half a spoon of vinegar.

Wyatt’s gaze paused.

Thinking to say, you forgot I’m sick?

And wanting to ask, weren’t you the one saying it should be nutritious and mild?

Yet there’s both chili oil and vinegar.

Are you sure?

But surprise, the sour and spicy taste wrapped in the rich and fragrant chicken soup surged into his nose along with the heat.

Wyatt suddenly felt a surge in his senses.

With one mouthful, the tangy flavor raced through his nasal cavity to the top of his head.

His weary body was awakened.

His whole self energized.

Mouthful after mouthful, Wyatt ate the noodles and dishes with relish.

The phone chid softly, Serena looked at it and then set it down.

Intuition told Wyatt it was Adrian Lockwood.

Because Serena was there.

Because Serena called him Wyatt.

Because Serena made a noodle soup he had never tasted before but instantly loved.

Because all these things caused his good mood to plumt quickly.

Wyatt’s expression grew sombre.

After tidying the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher, Serena asked Wyatt, "Did you take your dicine today?"

Wyatt remained silent.

Serena knew right away he hadn’t taken it.

Took out dicine from the box and placed it beside him, "Rember to take it in half an hour."

Knowing this ant she was about to leave.

The words of persuasion hovering on Wyatt’s lips were swallowed as her phone rang again.

Serena petted 2S and tossed a ball of yarn.

2S chased after it like a dog.

Serena grabbed her bag and turned, entering the elevator.

Behind her ca Wyatt’s soft voice, "Senior..."

Serena turned.

Outside the elevator, Wyatt’s stubborn gaze fixed upon her, "Did you...change your mind?"

Serena was startled, "What?"

Wyatt suddenly snapped back.

What right did he have to ask if she regretted anything, if she wasn’t planning to divorce Adrian Lockwood?

"Nothing."

Wyatt shook his head.

Though taller than her by a head and a half, the handso young man appeared childlike due to his illness.

Exuding a faintly gloomy and fragile aura.

His gaze towards her held fragnts of cautious hope.

Serena seed as if she suddenly understood.