Capítulo 9: Chapter 9:
Under the pale light, a patch of light seemed to surround them; she gently fluttered her eyelashes, feeling that the man's hair was not pure black but mixed with a bit of pale tan; there was even a little gold.
She shook her head, probably because of the light.
She stood up, a little awkwardly looking at the man's pants. She was also married, the male body is not unseen, but this man is strange.
"Cold… So cold…" The man occasionally let out a soft groan.
Demi Moore sighed, removed the towel, closed her eyes, removed the man's pants, and quickly wiped the rainwater from his lap. She couldn't help but see the other thing but didn't think much of it, hoping to help ease his discomfort.
When it was all done, she discovered that this place had no clothes for him to wear, so she had to get a clean blanket for him to put on. He hugged the blanket tightly, seemingly enjoying the sudden warmth; even from his face, she could see a satisfied smile.
That's fine; Demi Moore helped him to the bed with difficulty, helping him lie down. The man sighed, closing his eyes tightly, but his eyebrows relaxed.
Gently turning her arm, her shoulders were fatigued; although this man was thin, he was very tall, so it was still heavy for her. She gently took out a set of clothes and went to the bathroom; the warm water running down her hair felt comfortable; the coldness that went back and forth made people feel more appreciated.
Go out of the bathroom and lightly hit a sneeze. Don't you have a cold too? Take some fever-reducing pills and bring them to the man's bed first. Although his consciousness was not clear, the man was very coordinated; he raised his head, slightly opened his eyes, saw a pill, and instinctively opened his mouth; he remembered that this medicine was bitter, but it helped him sleep very deliciously.
After giving the man the medicine, Demi Moore also took the treatment; she couldn't get sick because she still had to care for him.
They wouldn't be able to continue this life if she got sick too.
Pulling back the corner of the blanket, she touched his forehead a little, feeling that the temperature had dropped before she calmly walked over to the computer, which is now the only thing that helps her earn a living. The things that belonged to her after the divorce she didn't take, not even the house, because she didn't want to stay there.
She has arms and legs and can support herself without them giving alms.
Sitting at the computer, she took out the other document. Fortunately, the paper was not wet, and the writing was evident. In the silent room, sometimes, there is the sound of typing on the keyboard, in addition to a man's breathing. She checked the man's temperature occasionally until the fever completely subsided. Only then did she realize that it was three o'clock in the morning; it was too late; how did this day go by so quickly?
Packed up all the documents, there was only one bed in the room, at this moment a man was lying on it, she didn't know where she had to sleep now.
She turned around and patted her shoulder, so tired, her eyes were weary. She went to the side of the bed, looked at the bed that was not so wide, and finally took another blanket, still deciding to sleep there. She was tired but still didn't forget to touch the man's forehead a little. Surprisingly, she didn't see him as dangerous; she had a feeling this man wouldn't do anything to her, absolutely not.
Tired, really tired.
She turned off the bedside table lamp and, in the dark, faintly heard the sound of another person's breathing. There was an extra person in the room, more or less unfamiliar, but she was exhausted, closed her eyes, and soon fell asleep.
But this sleep breaking the rules of peace.
Outside, the rain continued falling on the ground to form small holes, one drop after another, then creating ripples.
In that luxurious house, a handsome man was standing alone by the floor-to-ceiling window; his figure was extremely tall, and his face showed a slight sharpness and coldness. He folded his fingers, stretched them out, then folded them again… keep repeating this movement repeatedly.
Outside, the rain was so heavy he felt that even the street lamp's light had become dim; randomly turning his head, he looked at this room that had changed so much. He no longer considers it his home, Mary Wickes has come here with dignity, and he is a divorced man. Reviving his single days didn't make him feel comfortable, even more so—for example, his mood.
Also, the other girl seems to have completely forgotten about him; she doesn't need anything. Leaving him, how will she live, such heavy rain, where is she again? The inexplicable boredom makes it impossible for him to sleep, and his health is still excellent, but lately, it has always felt that many things have changed too much, and the habits of two years are not easy to fix.
He looked into the distance, only a little bit of inexplicable emotion in those black eyes.
A pair of tiny arms hugged him from behind, and then a pure and beautiful face leaned against his back.
"Tom, why aren't you asleep yet?" The girl's voice hinted at sleepiness, obviously just waking up.
"A bit later." After a long time, the man didn't move and only opened his mouth to say a few words. Mary Wickes hugged the man's waist tightly, her eyes showing a slight displeasure; she didn't like him like that, always too deep for her to see through. Is he changed, or she? Everyone has a bit of greed. Before, she just wanted to live with this man; she loved him, fell in love as soon as she saw it, and even accepted to be a third person.
From a young age, she was brilliant, generous, and beautiful, and everywhere she was praised by others. But she gave up all her arrogance just to be able to stay with this man. But now she feels it is not enough; she wants to monopolize everything, his house, his people. She waited for him to get a divorce, finally being able to live with him on the main road, but why didn't he say that he would marry her?
He made her so scared that she was afraid he would leave her one day.
"Tom, don't leave me." Mary Wickes finished whispering, hugging the man's body even tighter.
Tom Hulce suddenly sighed, turned around, and hugged the girl behind him.
"Tom, I love you." When Mary Wickes finished speaking, she raised her head to look at his handsome face, and in her beautiful eyes, there was an undisguised love.
Tom Hulce's body stiffened a little, and it seemed someone had said these words to him in his memory.
What he said made him feel a little more moved, and his heart beat faster.
"My dear, I love you..." He frowned, finally remembering the other sentence, 'My dear, I love you' It's been a long time since I heard that voice; now I remember and feel it again. A lifetime has passed.
I love you; I love you; what is love? For the first time, he panicked, suddenly regretting his divorce from the other; not only was his current life a mess, but even his heart was like that.
With a bit of sadness, he grabbed his hair, he pursed his lips tightly, his pale lips looked perfect, but when he tightened his grip, it made people feel that he was indifferent.
Perhaps this man himself did not have much affection.
"Tom, can we go to bed?" Mary Wickes' fingers placed on the man's back gently caressed, then gradually moved down, provoking the man's feeling.
Tom Hulce dangerously narrows his eyes a little, the coldness in his eyes gradually disappears, and his heart slowly relaxes; frankly speaking, Mary Wickes is an ideal lover in bed, compared to Demi Moore, which makes him feel more satisfied. Demi Moore was too shy, always making him feel like he was bullying her, so he was still cautious with her. But Mary Wickes was different; for the first time in bed with her, he immediately discovered that she was like Demi, incredibly enthusiastic about the mattress so he could love her like that.
"As you wish." Tom Hulce hugged Mary Wickes into the other room, the room that was once decorated by Demi Moore, the room they had slept in for two years, but at this moment, there was no longer any breath of the other girl; she was faded into their lives, even disappear.
Outside the door, they are seemed to be in another world. The rain had subsided a bit, but the rain hitting the window could still be heard. I don't know; the rain has blurred the vision of many people, only knowing that the darkness is still a piece of ecstasy.
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