Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption novel Chapter 167

Chapter 167: Her rich Imagination, His Sorrow...

By the time Davis came out of the bathroom, Jessica had already gone downstairs to retrieve their dinner.

It had been set earlier in the dining hall, but because of the lengthy therapy session, they hadn’t been able to eat at the usual time. Now, balancing the tray in her hands, Jessica carefully made her way back upstairs to their room.

Meanwhile, Davis sat on the edge of the bed, feeling strangely refreshed. His leg, which had been sore and trembling from the intense therapy session, now felt surprisingly flexible and light.

The usual numbness and pain were gone. Instead, he felt calm, peaceful and rejuvenated.

His brow furrowed in thoughtfulness and wondering. "How does she always do this?" he muttered to himself.

"After therapy, I should be sore and drained. But it’s the opposite." He mused, though she had always warned him that it will be painful yet she will make sure at the end he felt much better and relieved.

He glanced down at his leg and flexed his foot slightly. There was no discomfort. Just relief. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed this.

Every time she treated him, whether through therapy or those special baths she prepared, he always ended up feeling better. Relaxed. Lighter. More hopeful.

He made a mental note to ask her what exactly she usual adds to the bath water. Whatever it was, it worked wonders not only on his body but on his spirit too. With a smile tugging his lips, he retrieved the bathrobe she had prepared for him earlier.

Just then, the door creaked open. Jessica walked in, holding the tray of food carefully. She entered quietly, trying not to spill anything.

Her steps were light and soft, and she moved with natural grace.

She walked to the side table, set the tray down, and turned around to tell Davis that dinner was ready.

But the words got stuck in her throat.

Her breath caught as her eyes landed on Davis. He was sitting with his back to her, struggling to put on his bathrobe.

The warm glow from the ceiling light cast a soft shine across his broad, tanned shoulders and well-toned muscles. His back was strong, sculpted, and completely bare.

Jessica froze in place. A blush crept up her cheeks. Her eyes widened slightly, sparkling with awe. Her body refused to move, no matter how hard she tried to look away. Her gaze was locked on him.

"Wow..." she thought, swallowing hard. Her thoughts began to swirl wildly.

How would it feel to be carried on that back?What would it be like to be held in his arms, lifted bridal-style?

It suddenly made sense to her why his embrace always felt firm, steady, and secure. Those strong arms weren’t just from his past life—they were still very real now.

For the first time, Jessica felt regret that Davis was in a wheelchair. Not because she pitied him, but because she wanted to experience those thoughts. She wished she could try it out now but can’t.

She was curious—no, desperate—to know how it would feel. To be wrapped up in those arms, lifted effortlessly like she was precious.

Right then, she made a secret promise to herself. The first gift I’ll take for myself the moment he can stand... is to ask him to give me a piggyback ride.

That one wish made her smile slightly.

Her mind began to wander, far away from the present moment. It drifted toward a hopeful future—one she quietly dreamed of but never spoke out loud. Like scenes from a film, her imagination painted vivid pictures before her eyes.

Slowly, like a projector playing scenes of a movie clip Jessica fell into her imaginative dream;

The sun was setting casting it’s golden hue over the sky, it’s reflective strokes blending into bright colours. She was piggy backed by Davis, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her legs dangling at his sides.

He walked slowly through a beautiful flower-filled path, the petals swaying gently in the breeze. Her chestnut hair fluttered freely in the wind, her laughter ringing out into the warm air as he carried her as though she was light as a feather.

At the rush and rustle of the wind, She spread her arms wide as he walked, like a child she enjoyed the rush of wind and freedom. In that moment, they were alone in the world—just the two of them. No pain, no past, no fear.

While that scene withered away into a distant memory, another scene played out; Davis stood tall, no longer in a wheelchair, he towered above her. His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a tight hug.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify