Marrying my secret admirer after my husband's fake death novel Chapter 53

Chapter 53

Chapter 53

Justin stood awkwardly in the doorway, clutching a set of pajamas to his chest-his favorite, well-worn pair. He looked decidedly uncomfortable, caught between embarrassment and indecision.

“I, uh… I’m just used to sleeping in these,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

He’d intended to give up his bedroom for Edith tonight, but he couldn’t sleep without his usual pajamas. So he’d sneaked back in, trying to avoid making a scene, but now the air was thick with awkwardness.

He’d never felt so much like a trespasser in his own home.

As Justin opened his mouth to explain, Edith suddenly sat up in bed, concern written all over her face. She hurried over, eyeing the dampness clinging to his clothes and hair. “You’re soaked! Didn’t you take an

umbrella?”

Her eyes shone with genuine worry, softening her expression.

Standing before her, Justin felt like a guilty child caught in the act. “I did… but it was really windy out,” he replied, eyes darting away. He wasn’t used to lying, and it showed in the way he couldn’t quite meet her gaze.

But Edith, flustered and focused on his well-being, didn’t notice his hesitation. She rushed to the bathroom and returned with a fluffy towel, reaching up to dry his hair with gentle, hurried strokes.

“You have to be more careful,” she chided softly. “If your hair stays wet, you’ll catch a cold. Here, let me dry it for you…”

Justin’s cheeks flushed a deep red.

Edith paused, sensing something was off. Setting the towel aside, she pressed her hand to his forehead. “Oh no, are you running a fever?”

Their eyes met, and Edith searched his face for clues.

The more she looked, the redder Justin’s face became.

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Chapter 53

Certain now that he must be getting sick, Edith made up her mind. “Alright, that’s it. You need a hot shower.”

Before Justin could protest, she took his hand and led him straight to the bathroom.

For a split second, Justin froze-wait, was she… were they going to shower together?

Edith didn’t slow down, determined. She felt responsible; after all, if Justin got sick because of her, she couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

For the first time, Justin found himself simply standing in his own bedroom, docile and waiting.

Edith bustled about, turning on the tap, checking the water temperature, and making sure everything was just right—refusing to let Justin lift a finger.

He watched her from across the room, as if she were a precious painting come to life. This kind of domestic warmth-when had he last even dreamed about it? Maybe only in the quiet corners of his imagination, long ago.

When Edith finally finished fussing and turned around, she was startled to find Justin’s eyes rimmed with tears.

Was he really feeling that miserable?

Edith’s heart clenched with worry. Unsure how to comfort him, she asked gently, “Does it hurt that much?”

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