Marriage With A Evil Heart

I pushed him away and said with restrained anger, “Are you trying to kill me? Or want to exchange a wife?”NôvelDrama.Org owns this.

Robert laughed heartily, released his grip, and I walked out. He began taking a shower.

Back on the bed, my thoughts raced as I recalled the content of his phone call. I quickly took out my phone and sent a message to Scarlette, asking her to promptly handle the hospital’s surveillance.

The next morning, when Sherry saw Robert and me going downstairs together, she was astonished, “Rob… Mr. Brown, you… came back last night?”

Robert responded indifferently, “Yes.”

I sensed Sherry’s nervousness and she stammered, “Mrs. Brown, I’ll go get your medicine right away!”

“Stop the medicine for now,” Robert ordered before I could speak.

Sherry stiffened, glancing at me.

I calmly sat at the dining table, feeling pleasantly surprised that I could finally stop taking the medicine. However, I was immediately puzzled – why did Robert suddenly decide to stop my medication?

After breakfast, seizing the opportunity, I brought up the matter of my phone again. Surprisingly, Robert readily agreed and went upstairs to retrieve my phone, handing it to me.

I happily took it, eager to make a call, but he pressed down on my hand. “Just tell them you’ve returned and don’t worry about you.”

I was surprised, genuinely surprised.

“But,” Robert hesitated, looking at me, and I asked, “What’s wrong?”

“If they say they want to come to Newport, delay them for now!”

“Why?” I asked, pretending to be displeased.

“I’m just worried that they seeing you unwell might upset them,” Robert covered all angles, “Tell them you’ve come back to rest for a while and will go back to see them. Don’t let them get too tired; after all, they’re both in their 70s.”

“Okay,” I replied, pouting.

The call went through, and following Robert’s instructions, I spoke with my parents. They were delighted to hear my voice and asked many details about my life abroad. Robert remained by my side, nodding approvingly as I responded according to his suggestions.

The call lasted for a long time, and by the end, my brain felt deprived of oxygen. I didn’t hide this feeling and told Robert, “If we keep talking, I might pass out!”

“Well, go upstairs and rest for a while then,” he said, gently holding my shoulders.

Before I could go upstairs, Sherry hurriedly came downstairs, heading directly to the medicine cabinet.

Robert gave her a stern look and asked coldly, “What’s wrong?”

“That… Charles seems to have a slight fever,” Sherry stammered.

“What?” I immediately stood up, feeling a mix of regret and frustration. Although I regretted my actions, I still questioned Sherry, “How did he get a fever?”

Observing Sherry’s guilty expression, she replied, “Maybe he caught a chill last night. When I checked on him at midnight, he… he kicked off the blanket!”

Hearing Sherry’s explanation, I felt both sad and relieved. It seemed she had no suspicions, completely unaware of what had happened.

Without further inquiry, I went straight upstairs, with Robert closely behind. In the children’s room, I reached out to touch Charles’s forehead, and it was indeed very hot, almost burning.

“Charlie,” I murmured, tears swirling in my eyes. I truly regretted not covering him with a blanket last night; otherwise, he wouldn’t be sick.

Robert comforted me, “Don’t worry, dear. It’s normal for kids to have minor illnesses.”

I saw Sherry also looking worried as she placed the thermometer under Charles’s armpit. When she checked the thermometer, it showed a temperature of 39 degrees.