Lost Me, Gained Regret (Jane and Bryant Ferguson) novel Chapter 363

Bryant glared at her, his tone heavy with implication, "Don't you feel like a fifth wheel here?"

Christine dabbed ointment on my skin, concentrating. "No, I don’t think so."

"Bryant," I turned to him, "You should leave."

"I leave?" Bryant glanced outside, his eyes darkening, "Are you off to be someone's personal blood bank again?"

I knew what he meant. Though the Ford family was reasonable, the Myers mother-daughter duo was a whole different story, utterly unhinged. They saw me as a thorn in their side, missing no chance to skin me alive if they could.

Bryant relaxed, pulling a chair to sit by the bed, his long legs crossed. "Want some water?"

"Sitting there with your legs crossed like that, who'd dare ask for water?" Still harboring resentments from past events, Christine seized the moment to vent.

Bryant chuckled. "Well, there's always you, isn't there?"

"No wonder you're divorced." Christine smiled, handing me a glass of water.

…

After the IV, it wasn't too late. The itching had subsided. When leaving the hospital, I intended to part ways with Bryant and catch a cab back to the hotel.

But he grabbed me assertively, "I'll take you back."

"No need for..."

Before I could finish, Bryant took off his coat and draped it over me, then scooped me up over his shoulder with my head down toward the ground. "You're running a fever. And the night air will make it worse."

Christine watched, dumbfounded, whispering to York, "What kind of billionaire romance is Mr. Ferguson acting out?"

…

Bryant shoved me into the car.

Christine took the passenger seat naturally, and York drove.

I was getting annoyed, thinking people just don't change. Especially him—once that fake calmness wore off, his usual arrogance and need to control everything started showing up again. Maybe I'd never seen his true face, even to this day.