Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption novel Chapter 212

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Chapter 212: My thanks...

The room was dimly lit, the faint glow from the bedside lamp casting warm shadows on the walls. Davis and Jessica cuddled in each other’s embrace as they savoured every inch of each other’s body.

By the time he reluctantly let her go, Jessica had no strength left. Her limbs felt like jelly, her breathing soft and even as she drifted into sleep without realizing it.

Davis, however, didn’t sleep. Instead, he took his time, lying on his side and observing the woman beside him.

Jessica’s face was relaxed in slumber, her cheeks flushed, her lips rosy and swollen from his kiss yet inviting. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

He had memorized every curve, every detail of her face and might be able to draw it with his eyes shut, but somehow, with each passing day, she became even more captivating.

Her beauty wasn’t just physical; it shone from within, glowing brighter the more time he spent with her.

He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

His heart ached deeply as he stared at her. "Will you ever rest and not worry about my affairs?" he whispered, his voice barely audible, yet filled with emotion.

Though his tone was soft, his mind was filled with mixed emotions. He was grateful—grateful beyond words that she came into his life at his lowest moment, had existed in his life and had cared deeply for him.

It was as though God wanted to compensate him for everything he had gone through—betrayals, disappointment and even isolation. But at the same time, guilt gnawed at him.

She had endured too much on her young shoulders. Girls her age were still figuring out their path, attending university lectures, partying, or scrolling endlessly through social media, but Jessica had already shouldered so much for him.

Even now, after helping him recover from his injuries, she still joined hands with him to rebuild and reclaim what he had lost.

Even with that, she is still worried, still fought his battles. Still put his needs first. It frustrated him, not because of what she did, but because he didn’t want her to carry this much or suffer emotionally.

He rubbed his brow, the frustration and helplessness evident on his face. His eyes briefly moved to the table where she had been working earlier before he had pulled her into his arms.

Papers lay scattered, files open, and her designs half-drafted. She had been so focused, determined. And yet, she allowed herself to be distracted, concerned about some malicious gossip that wasn’t even true.

Sighing, Davis carefully pulled off the duvet covering them and quietly got up. He made his way to the bathroom, filled a bowl with warm water, and returned.

He sat beside her and, with gentle hands carefulness, began wiping the sweat from her body. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if every touch was a silent vow.

Recalling how shy she could get if she was awake—her cheeks always turned a lovely shade of red, and she would often cover her face or grumble his name in frustration whenever he teased her. The memory made him smile softly.