Second Chance: Marrying into Wealth Chapter 111

After grabbing the medicine and some fever reducers, I poured a glass of water and gently woke Christopher.

"If you don't wanna go to the hospital, you gotta take this medicine first. Come on, be good, or I'll have to take you in," I coaxed him softly, like soothing a child.

Christopher frowned deeply, clearly not thrilled about taking the medicine.

But when he heard my threat about the hospital, he immediately opened his eyes obediently. I could see a mix of frustration and helplessness in them.

I quickly looked away, afraid of being swayed.

I wanted Christopher to sit up, but he was too weak. I had to use all my strength to help him up, and he ended up leaning heavily against me.

His body was burning hot, and I could feel the heat radiating from him, even his breath was scorching.

Maybe because I had rushed in from outside, my body still carried some of the cool night air. He seemed to sense it and deliberately leaned closer to me.

My face turned red. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that he was just a delirious patient right now.

After successfully getting Christopher to take the medicine, I laid him back down. His forehead was already covered in sweat. This meant the medicine was working.

To bring his fever down faster, I considered using a physical cooling method. I went to the bathroom, filled a basin with cool water, soaked a cloth in it, wrung it out, and placed it on his forehead.

At first, the cloth quickly heated up due to his high temperature. I had to keep changing it repeatedly until his temperature gradually started to drop.

After all that effort, my hands felt weak.

He had broken out in a sweat from the medicine, and to prevent his condition from worsening, he couldn't sleep in wet clothes. I had to change them.

Christopher, now asleep, looked like a serene Sleeping Beauty with his long eyelashes and delicate features, making him seem untouchable.

I tried to stay focused, reminding myself that he was just a patient.

But as I unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his muscular chest and defined abs, I couldn't help but want to touch them!

I slapped my own hand, reminding myself not to think that way!

Besides, Christopher was a patient. I couldn't take advantage of him.

After finally getting his shirt off, I found a clean one to put on him.

But changing his pants was more challenging!

I was too embarrassed to lift the blanket and just go for it, so I fumbled around under the covers.

Suddenly, a large hand grabbed mine tightly, almost crushing my bones.

I knew Christopher was just being overly alert.

But his sensitivity made me worry he might think I was trying to take advantage of him. I awkwardly smiled at him, wanting to explain that I was only trying to help.

To my surprise, his eyes remained closed, as if he hadn't woken up. Grabbing my hand was just a reflex.

I sighed softly and whispered in his ear, "Christopher, you can't sleep in sweaty clothes. Let me help you change, okay?"

Thankfully, even though his eyes were closed and he was groggy, he seemed to hear me. He mumbled a response and released my hand.

He even cooperated by slightly shifting his body as I pulled down his pants.

Changing his pants was even harder than his shirt. By the time I finished, I was sweating myself.

I could feel my ears burning, my face hot. Anyone who didn't know better might think I had caught his fever!

Christopher's physique was impressive—broad shoulders, chest muscles, a slim waist, a firm butt, long legs, and those eight-pack abs.

He had the perfect model's body, and with his handsome face, it was no wonder girls were so infatuated with him.

Even I, who had no inappropriate thoughts about him, couldn't help but admire him.

Christopher's breathing had become more even. I changed the cloth on his forehead several more times. By three or four in the morning, I was exhausted. 

I checked his temperature—it had dropped from 105°F to 100°F. Still a bit high, but at least it was coming down. I felt a bit relieved.

To avoid worrying Paxton at the hospital, I updated him on the situation.

The sky was starting to lighten.

Outside, it was still quiet, with only the occasional sound of birds or rustling leaves. The world seemed to be at a standstill, peaceful and serene.

Sleepiness washed over me repeatedly. But to prevent any unexpected situations, I didn't dare leave the room.

It wasn't really appropriate for a man and a woman to be alone together, especially since I was married. But I couldn't just leave a sick Christopher unattended.

I decided to rest my head on the edge of the bed for a bit, just for a moment!

But I ended up falling into a deep sleep.

When I woke up, my mind was still foggy, and I instinctively reached out to check Christopher's forehead.

But I touched nothing. I snapped awake, and to my horror, I realized I was lying in the bed.

I rolled off the bed in a panic. I never intended to climb into Christopher's bed with any ulterior motives.

Christopher was no longer in bed. How was he feeling? Did he see me in his bed when he woke up? Would he misunderstand and think I had taken advantage of him?

I was so scared I didn't even care about the pain in my butt. I knocked on my forehead, regretting my actions. I had meant well, but now it seemed like I had done something wrong, and I might not be able to clear my name.

"Headache? Did I infect you? I'll take you to the hospital!" Christopher's voice came from behind me, slightly hoarse but filled with concern.

As he spoke, he walked over and reached out to help me up.

"No, I'm fine. I can get up myself!" I avoided his eyes, feeling guilty. Maybe Christopher hadn't noticed last night. Should I pretend I didn't know either?

But I didn't dare get too close to him, so I refused his help and hurriedly stood up on my own.

In my haste, I stumbled, my knee hurting from the earlier fall. I ended up falling right into Christopher's arms.

Christopher instinctively tried to catch me, but I ended up knocking him over, and we both fell to the ground.

Christopher let out a grunt as he made contact with the floor.