By the way, he stared at her intently, as if trying to get enough of her with just his eyes.
Alia sat up, one hand pressing against her chest, feeling a lingering sense of unease. Her face remained pale for quite so ti.
"What’s wrong? Another nightmare about the plane crash? I asked Benny Palr to reach out to a psychologist. Maybe you’d feel better with a session?"
The woman dazedly shook her head. "It wasn’t the plane crash... I dreamt of the kids... They kept calling for , like they were in danger."
Christopher took her hand again. "It’s deep in the night back ho; they’re all asleep, dreaming themselves. There’s no danger. You’re just too tense—haunted by the shadow left by the plane crash, letting your imagination run wild."
"I hope you’re right..."
The room was silent. After Alia’s thoughts settled, her gaze turned toward him. Her delicate brows furrowed slightly. "Are you... holding up okay? Your injuries haven’t healed yet, and you’re still pushing yourself like this..."
Christopher gazed at her. When he smiled faintly, the curve of his lips carried a charm that seed to seep into her very bones. "Hearing your concern makes it all worth it."
"..." Alia looked down, feeling a little embarrassed by his words.
"Aren’t you hungry? I’ll ask Lucas King to send so food over. You should eat sothing, take a shower, and put on clean clothes before sleeping again."
That afternoon, after returning to the hotel and having a video call with the kids, Alia had been so exhausted that she crashed almost imdiately.
She was still wearing the sa outfit as before.
Now, there was a set of clean clothes placed next to her pillow. Judging by the look of them, they must have been sent from the hotel’s boutique. There was even underwear included.
When she glanced at them, her cheeks burned bright red.
After they reunited, they hadn’t had a proper conversation about the past. But the way they interacted now was unquestionably that of the closest people. If she tried to deny their connection, she wouldn’t just co across as ungrateful or insincere; Christopher would certainly not allow it either.
With a jumble of emotions in her heart, she sighed softly...
Forget it. Let things take their course.
When Christopher finished his call and saw Alia sitting there with her head lowered and brows knitted, he imdiately grew tense. "What’s wrong? Does your head hurt?"
"Mm..." She nodded at first, then quickly realized he might misunderstand her subtle discomfort. Shaking her head, she rushed to clarify. "No."
"So, does it or does it not hurt?"
"It doesn’t..."
"Co closer." His tone suddenly beca commanding.
"What?"
"I said, co closer." Sitting in the wheelchair, he couldn’t reach her forehead and had no choice but to call her over.
Though puzzled, Alia inexplicably complied, leaning in a little closer toward him.
He raised a hand and placed it on her forehead, checking her temperature. "Good... No fever. It’s likely still just the psychological shadows. After you eat, let’s talk to the psychologist."
Hearing how thodically he arranged everything, Alia suddenly found herself gazing at him in confusion.
Christopher smiled lightly. "Why are you looking at like that?"
"Did you... get your mory back?" she asked suddenly.
"I didn’t." Christopher shook his head. "I wish I did. Even though those years were when I was at my worst, since I was the one who made the mistakes, it’s my responsibility to make ands. I’ve never intended to run away from it."
Her eyes stayed locked on him, as though she was still doubtful.
"Alia..." His expression grew more serious, his tone tender yet resolute. "I would never lie to you. If my mories ever return, you’ll be the first to know."
"Then why did you try to hide it from when your vision was restored?"
This—
Christopher instantly looked guilty.
He’d thought the matter was over, but clearly, she wasn’t letting him off that easily.
"When, exactly, did your vision recover?"
Under her pressured stare, Christopher didn’t dare utter half a lie. He confessed honestly: "It was that day... When you helped up and I fell, hitting my head on the cabinet..."
"That early?!" Alia was shocked. She looked at his forehead, where the scar from the injury had long healed, the scab having long fallen off.
"You could see then?"
"Not entirely... At the ti, I just vaguely sensed so light. I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure if it would last. What if it reverted again? That would’ve been false hope."
The cautious tone in his voice made him seem worried she’d get mad again.
Alia cast him a sidelong glance before letting out a helpless sigh. "Forget it, as long as you’re okay now. But you still need to get checked. You wouldn’t want to fall again and lose your sight again, would you?"
"..." Christopher rubbed his nose and looked up at her. "Can’t you say sothing nicer?"
"..."
Not long after, Lucas King arrived with food. Alia got up, washed her face, and sat quietly at the table. Only then did she realize how hungry she was, her appetite awakening as the aroma hit her senses.
Christopher, with his restored vision, no longer needed soone to feed him. They quietly sat together to enjoy the al, surrounded by a rare, peaceful atmosphere.
"By the way, where’s your phone? I want to call Snow."
Christopher handed her his phone. The mont she saw the picture on his lock screen, she shot him a brief glance. "You have a thing for taking sneaky photos, don’t you?"
"How’s it sneaky? I took it openly!"
The lock screen image was, of course, a photo of Alia. It was a candid portrait of her with her head lowered, her eyes downcast as she focused on sothing.
Though half of her face was obscured by her hair, the visible side remained stunning. Her curled lashes, elegant nose, and immaculate, porcelain-like skin were captivating.
Since he’d managed to make her appear so ethereal in the photo, she decided to let the matter slide.
She called Snow.
Learning that Shaw was already awake and they had eaten dinner, now lounging and chatting over snacks while watching dramas, Alia couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy.
"What’s there to envy? You’ve got a man beside you; isn’t that better than our setup?" Snow teased with her usual straightforwardness.
"What’s so great about n? They’re no match for girlfriends," Alia responded casually, though she wasn’t sure if she ant it for soone else’s ears.
The "soone" in question indeed glanced at her with so dissatisfaction but said nothing.
"That’s ungrateful of you. From the way I see it, the way he’s been acting since your accident would make any woman content for life if they were in your shoes."
"Alright, you’ve clearly been bribed by him," Alia retorted. "Otherwise, why are all your words making him sound so good?"
She hung up, placing the phone back on his side, and resud eating in silence.
Christopher glanced at her several tis, looking as if he wanted to say sothing but held back.
Since he didn’t speak, neither did she. The two quietly finished their al.
"Um... I’m going to shower. You should rest early too."
They were staying in a suite. Beyond the bedroom, there was another room.
Alia wasn’t prepared to share a bed with him just yet. So, after gathering her clothes, she gave a low, awkward "suggestion" for him to leave before heading to the bathroom.
Christopher turned his wheelchair, but before he could respond, the bathroom door had already shut.
He stared at the frosted glass door, his expression unreadable. His deep, dark eyes grew darker still, his Adam’s apple moving unconsciously.
He knew full well she was trying to send him away, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to leave.
He had waited so long, finally reaching a mont where the frost between them was starting to lt.
There was so much he wanted to do, so much he wished to say. Being told to leave now would bring another restless night.
So, no. He wouldn’t leave. He would wait for her!
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