The Ultimate Cure: A New Husband

This was the first time Adriana had made a firm demand of Chris. After a long silence, his low, hoarse voice sounded in the darkness.

"Wait a little longer—until my legs recover."

Her throat felt dry as she spoke, as if murmuring in a dream. "I don't mind doing the work myself."

She had already waited five years. She couldn't afford to wait another five.

Chris sat up and wrapped his arms around her from behind, his warm breath brushing against her neck.

"Adriana, there's plenty of time ahead. I want our first time to be perfect."

Adriana gave a bitter smile. She had known it would be like this.

Chris was too clever. With her, his injured legs were an absolute shield—an untouchable excuse.

He was certain she had no way to push him.

"What about Edward?" she asked. "Are you going to let him be an illegitimate child forever?"

She didn't like Joan, but the kid was innocent.

She had lost her parents at eight. During the half year she drifted between relatives' homes, she endured endless coldness and rejection. Later, she was brought to the Slater family estate and raised by Grandma Rosie. From then on, her life was comfortable and well provided for.

Even so, she still missed her parents and longed for a family of her own.

The man behind her loosened his hold and slowly lay back down. He said nothing for a long time.

The thick darkness was like a swamp, swallowing them both.

Adriana remained motionless. "Let's get a divorce, Chris. That way, you can have a complete family."

She wasn't incapable of leaving him. Perhaps, deep down in the darkest corner of her heart, a voice had already been screaming for her to go.

By Chris's side, she played the role of the perfect wife, living a life that no longer felt like Adriana's own.

After the divorce, she could still fulfill her promise to Grandma Rosie—as family.

A cold laugh came from behind her, frost spreading through the room.

"Adriana, who gave you the right to arrange my life? Remember this—only a home with you in it is the home I want."

His tone grew calm, yet a chill crept up her spine.

It felt as though a wild beast lurked in the dark, staring at her with naked possessiveness, claiming her as its own.

This Chris felt terrifyingly unfamiliar.

"Chris!"

Joan's anxious voice suddenly rang out from outside the door, startling Adriana.

For the first time, she was glad to hear Joan's voice.

"Joan, what is it?" Chris asked hoarsely, faintly suggestive.

"It's nothing. Sorry for disturbing you," Joan said, choking back tears.

Footsteps hurried away outside. Chris quickly settled back into his wheelchair.

He pushed open the door at the other end of the hallway. Edward was curled up in Joan's arms, both of them crying, their faces streaked with tears.

"What happened?"

"Edward had a nightmare. He kept calling for his dad."

Joan turned her face away, avoiding his gaze.

Chris took Edward from her arms. "Edward, I'm here."

"The monster was chasing me. I called for Daddy to save me, but I don't have a dad…" Edward clutched his clothes, crying heartbrokenly.

"I'm sorry. I panicked—I didn't know you were…" Joan said, glancing sideways at Chris, her eyes full of grievance.

Guilt rose unbidden in Chris's chest. On impulse, he whispered, "Joan, you're the only woman I've ever been with."

A flash of joy passed through Joan's eyes, vanishing just as quickly. After the surprise faded, only sadness remained.

She tilted her head back, raised a hand to wipe away her tears, and exhaled slowly. One strap of her camisole slid down with the movement.

"Chris, I didn't move into this house to break you and Adriana apart."

Chris lowered his gaze. Edward had already fallen asleep in his arms.

"Don't worry. I won't let you or Edward suffer."

"I believe you," Joan said.

She leaned forward to take Edward back. Her loose nightdress barely concealed her curves.

"You should go back," she said softly. "Don't let Adriana wait too long."

Chris's eyes stayed on Edward's face. "All right. Call me if anything happens."

Unexpectedly, Edward's hand clutched his clothes tightly, whimpering at the slightest movement.

"I'll wake him up," Joan said.

"No need." Chris stopped her and moved closer to the bed. "I'll sleep next to him."

Joan hesitated. "But Edward is used to my scent. If I'm not here, he won't sleep well."

"You don't have to leave," Chris said flatly.

"What if Adriana misunderstands?"

"She's always been sensible and considerate. She'll understand."

As he said this, a faint smile flickered in his eyes.

Chris hadn't returned for a long time. As Adriana debated whether to go check on him, those same words came to mind: Sensible and considerate.

From childhood to adulthood, "sensible and considerate" had been a label welded onto her. Everyone in the Slater family described her that way.

What they didn't know was that, as an orphan living under others' roofs, failing to be sensible meant being ungrateful.

And tonight, sensible and considerate as she was, she still couldn't tear that label off.

She chose to close her door and retreat into her small, solitary world.

She dreamed all night—of her parents beckoning to her, of Grandma Rosie questioning why she hadn't kept her promise, of attending Chris and Joan's wedding… and of a pair of deep blue eyes.

When she woke in the morning, her head felt heavy, as if stuffed with too many thoughts.

Only Chris was in the dining room. Joan and Edward hadn't gotten up yet.

Adriana sat across from him, eating breakfast in silence.

He handed her a glass of warm milk. "About last night—"

"I'm going out to look for a job," she said.

She didn't want to dwell on the night before and decided to state her intentions outright.

She had married Chris shortly after graduating from college and had never worked a day in her life.

In truth, she only needed to stay by his side when he was home. During weekday mornings and afternoons, her time belonged to her alone.

More importantly, she hadn't given up on the idea of divorce.

If Joan played her cards well, Chris might eventually bring it up himself.

A tree dies if it's uprooted, but a person can flourish in a new environment. Whether or not the divorce went smoothly, she wasn't going to stay home and compete with Joan.

Chris froze for a moment, then rejected it flatly. "No."

Driven by some twisted instinct, he subconsciously resisted letting Adriana leave his sight.

She didn't back down. "Then have Joan take her son and move out. I don't want to see them."

Chris frowned. "Adriana, is this your delayed teenage rebellion?"

From childhood to now, she had never once defied him.

Adriana set down her utensils, wiped her mouth, and lifted her clear, steady eyes.

"Chris, please respect me."

Seeing the stubborn resolve on her face, he reluctantly gave in. "Fine. I'll arrange a position for you at my company."

She had never worked before, was soft-hearted, and too trusting. He didn't believe she could survive in the workplace.

Let her taste hardship, he thought. Once she'd had enough of the real world, she would naturally come back.

"No need. I already have an interview scheduled."

Adriana had never planned to work at Chris's company. She was leaving—not running toward him.

Chris seemed to care about her, but the moment he couldn't let go of Joan and her son, he had already made his choice.

Irritated, Chris tossed his fork into the plate. Adriana ignored him, put on her heels, and walked out.

Appeasing him was no longer her responsibility. That was now Joan's role.

Chris rubbed his brow and called his assistant.

"Notify all the companies," he said coldly. "No one is allowed to hire Adriana."