Secretly Married for 4 Years, He Regrets to Tears After the Divorce Chapter 156: Didn’t Hear a Thing

"Adrian Lancaster, wake up. Don’t sleep."

Adrian Lancaster was actually awake. He could hear Wren Sutton’s voice, but he felt so miserable he didn’t want to move. With his eyes still closed, he rasped out two words, "Head hurts."

"You have a fever. Of course your head hurts."

Wren Sutton turned, rummaged through the nightstand drawer for a rcury thermoter, and deftly tucked it under Adrian Lancaster’s arm.

"Don’t move. Keep it there for ten minutes."

Adrian was very cooperative. "Honey, I’m thirsty. I want so water."

Considering how miserable he was from the fever, Wren didn’t have the heart to refuse.

She helped him sit up and poured him a glass of warm water.

Adrian downed the glass in one go, and the water soothed his throat.

"Honey, thank you. You’re the best."

Wren ignored him and glanced at the ti. Only two minutes had passed.

"I’m going to wash up. Keep the thermoter in place and don’t let it fall out. Hold on for ten minutes."

Adrian obediently agreed.

Wren’s bedroom had an en-suite bathroom, which was very convenient.

She had wanted to take a shower, but that was out of the question now.

She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and did her basic skincare routine. When she ca out, the timing was perfect.

Adrian was leaning against the headboard, drowsy and listless.

Wren walked over and, with a serious expression, removed the thermoter from under his arm. She examined it closely. It read 39.6°C. A high fever.

...

Wren’s heart sank. ’How could it be so high?’

’A fever this high is no joke. Physical cooling thods won’t be enough. He needs to take fever-reducing dication imdiately.’

She steadied herself and went to the living room to look for the dicine cabinet, searching for a fever reducer.

Mrs. Sutton was in the kitchen making a al, with Mr. Sutton helping at her side.

Hearing the commotion, the couple both turned to look toward the living room.

"Honey, what are you doing?"

"Looking for a fever reducer."

Hearing this, Mr. and Mrs. Sutton imdiately dropped what they were doing and ca out of the kitchen, their faces etched with worry.

"You have a fever? What’s your temperature? Sit down, don’t move. Let see."

"It’s not ," Wren said, still rummaging. "It’s Adrian. He has a high fever, 39.6 degrees."

Mr. and Mrs. Sutton were completely baffled.

"If Adrian has a fever, why are you looking for dicine here at our house?"

At this point, there was no hiding it. Wren confessed, feeling utterly mortified, "He... slept in my bedroom last night."

...

In unison, they turned to look at their daughter’s bedroom door.

’If they rembered correctly, Adrian had left last night right after finishing his scallion oil noodles. When did he co back? What on earth happened during the night? They hadn’t heard a single sound...’

"Found it."

Wren had finally unearthed a box of fever reducers.

But before she could feel relieved, she saw the expiration date. Her face fell, a picture of despair.

The dicine had expired six months ago.

"It’s expired."

Mr. and Mrs. Sutton snapped out of their daze.

They could worry about last night’s events later. The most important thing now was to get Adrian’s fever down.

"He can’t take expired dicine. I’ll go buy so more. There’s a pharmacy right at the entrance to our complex," Mr. Sutton said, imdiately going to put on his shoes, not wanting to waste a mont.

Mrs. Sutton said, "Hurry back."

Wren didn’t stop him, but just as Mr. Sutton was about to open the door, she suddenly said, "Dad, don’t go. I’ll just take Adrian to the hospital. It’s the safest option. We’ll let a doctor decide whether he needs pills or a shot."

Mr. Sutton looked to his wife. Mrs. Sutton thought their daughter had a point and said to her husband, "Listen to our daughter."

And so, with her parents’ help, Wren got Adrian into the car and drove to the hospital.

Just a few minutes after they left, Spencer Sawyer’s car pulled up downstairs from the Suttons’ apartnt.

He had brought a homade breakfast, along with several boxes of expensive health supplents.

When the doorbell rang, Mrs. Sutton went to answer it.

’Who could be here so early in the morning?’

"Professor Morrison, good morning."

Seeing Spencer Sawyer, Mrs. Sutton smiled in surprise. "Oh, it’s you! Is sothing the matter? Co in, co in."