When he asked her about her promise, Lyra looked a little uncomfortable.
After a moment's contemplation, she frowned, put her hand to her forehead in pain, and said in a strong but relaxed voice,
"Honey, of course I know about our promise. I keep you in my heart. I won't forget anything about you, but I have a headache right now. Can you let me rest first?"
Malcolm's face looked cold inch by inch, and he looked down with disappointment in his dark eyes. His heart felt like it was being weighed down by a heavy rock, and it was hard for him to breathe.
She was ... not Rara.
He had begged his grandfather for the betrothal between them.
He had done everything he could do to make Lyra forgive him and not break the engagement.
He never dared to ask Lyra for any promise.
But this woman didn't know.
Even though she looked like Lyra, and some of gestures were deliberately imitating Lyra's grace, she was really not Lyra.
His clenched palms trembled, and Malcolm's eyes turned red.
His wife was not found, but he brought back a fake.
There was nothing more painful than to think that he had found her and then to lose her again.
The woman soon felt that his mood was low and very wrong, "What's going on? Did I say something wrong to make you sad?"
"Nothing, you say you have a headache. My heart aches." He restrained the mood and always lowered his head.
The woman heaved a sigh of relief as she remembered what was going on. She gripped Malcolm's sleeve nervously and asked, "Hey, Honey, where are Spencer and Momo? I haven't seen them in days. I want to see them."
Malcolm lowered his eyes, and his dark pupils gradually turned cold. He said calmly, "There's no hurry. You should rest first. You can be discharged in a few days. I'll take you to see them."
"Good." The woman showed a smile, "Listen to you."
Malcolm withdrew his arm slightly, stopping her from clutching his sleeve. He raised his left wrist and looked at his watch.
It was nighttime. It was time to go back to the lab and company Spencer and Molly.
He got up and said, "It's getting late. Rara, have a good rest. I'll be back in the morning."
The woman was slightly blank, "I am hospitalized. Don't you accompany me?"
She looked hurt, and her pretty bright face was very beautiful.
"Spencer is not in good health. He needs an infusion at night. He'll cry if he doesn't see me. Honey, you used to love the kids the most. Is this a competition with them?"
He looked down at her. His voice was gentle, but his eyes were deep and emotionless.
The corners of her mouth twitched. "No," she said, "Spencer's weak. I've been blaming myself, too. Go be with the kids. I'll be waiting for you in the ward."
"That sounds good. Have a good rest. I go first." He smiled and coaxed, but the smile didn't mean he was happy.
As he turned, the smile disappeared completely from his face.
"Hey, before you go, could you... a kiss?"
Before the woman could finish her words, the door to the room slammed, and Malcolm walked quickly without looking back.
Why did he walk so fast?
She thought Malcolm loved his wife more than anyone?
How could she not feel it?
Was Malcolm suspicious of her already? Even see through her?
Thinking of this, she rushed out of bed, facing the mirror to examine her delicate face.
It was so beautiful. It was exactly the same. There was nothing wrong with it.
She thought she was overthinking it.
...
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