Awakened Housewife Ignore Betrayer's Begs (Scarlett) novel Chapter 294

Chapter 294 A Humble Gesture

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But there was a softness in her gaze, as if the image of Vincent leaning on Sabrina no longer held any weight for her.

Damian didn’t press further. He stood up promptly. “Alright, I’ll draw you a bath.”

Once the water was ready, he fetched her pajamas and a change of underclothes from the bag.

When everything was prepared, he returned to the bedside. “Let me carry you over,” he offered gently.

Seeing how attentively he had moved around the room, Scarlett felt a quiet warmth stir inside her. At his offer, though, her cheeks colored slightly. “I can walk, Damian.”

Damian paused, then withdrew his hands without argument.

If she preferred to walk, he wouldn’t insist.

Scarlett moved slowly into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, the soft click of the lock echoing in the quiet room.

Damian stood outside, hearing the sound, and a faint, contented smile touched his lips,

Soon, the gentle rush of water could be heard from within.

Worried she might catch a chill, Damian waited by the door, her robe draped over his arm.

About half an hour later, Scarlett emerged, a towel wrapped around her damp hair, her body clothed in soft, fleece pajamas.

The winter night was cold.

The moment she stepped out, Damian moved forward and wrapped the robe snugly around her. “Are you warm enough?”

Scarlett shook her head gently. “I’m fine.”

Seeing the calm in her eyes, Damian’s own expression softened with relief.

He guided her to sit on the edge of the bed. “Stay here–I’ll get the hairdryer.”

Before she could protest, he was already across the room, retrieving it from the cabinet.

He moved with an unassuming diligence that felt nothing like the proud heir he was supposed to be–more like someone caring for a loved one.

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Watching him, Scarlett found it hard to believe this was real.

How could a man like him humble himself like this–for her?

While Damian carefully dried her hair, Scarlett turned the question over in her mind, finding no clear answer.

Once her hair was dry, he put the dryer away.

As Scarlett began to lie down, Damian stopped her gently. “Wait just a moment.”

He returned to the bathroom and came out with a basin of warm water, placing it at her feet. “Soaking your feet might help you sweat out the fever and sleep better.”

Scarlett, trained in medicine, almost commented on the lack of scientific proof–but Damian spoke first, a touch of self–awareness in his tone. “I know, you’re the doctor. Maybe it’s just an old remedy. But even if it doesn’t cure anything, it should help you relax.”

Before she could respond, he pulled a small stool from beneath the bed, sat down before her, and reached for her feet.

Scarlett’s heart tightened. “Damian, you don’t have to-

But he had already guided her feet into the warm water and begun massaging them with careful, if unpracticed, hands.

His touch was clumsy, yet so earnest that tears welled in Scarlett’s eyes before she could stop them.

If all this was just an act for some hidden gain, he wouldn’t go this far.

Maybe… he truly did care for her.

She tried to pull her feet back more than once, offering to do it herself, but Damian held them gently. “Let me,” he said softly. “This is what someone who cares for you should do. Just let me take care of you.”

Hearing that, Scarlett fell silent.

She looked down at him–bent at her feet, his handsome face focused intently on the task, as if tending to her was the most natural thing in the world.

If not for features impossible to counterfeit, she might have wondered if this was really Damian

at all.

When the foot soak was done, Damian helped her into bed.

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After emptying the basin, he returned to tuck the blankets snugly around her.

Then, leaning close, he asked softly, “Would it be alright if I stepped out for a little while?”

Scarlett was bundled tightly, only her face visible. She met his gaze, struck again by how genuinely he seemed to embrace the role he’d claimed.

She didn’t feel she deserved a “lover” like him–but she didn’t voice the thought.

Instead, she said quietly, “You don’t need my permission to go somewhere.”

Damian’s expression turned earnest. “Yes, I do. My time is yours when you allow it.”

Scarlett didn’t correct him. “Then go ahead,” she murmured.

Before leaving, he brushed a tender kiss against her forehead. “Get some rest. I won’t be long.”

Then he was gone.

Alone in the quiet room, Scarlett found sleep elusive–her mind clearer and more awake than

ever.

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