Five Years of Marriage to Mr. Bradford (by Koi Fish) novel Chapter 231

Chapter 231

Still in the hospital, Nancy told Vance that Rebecca hadn’t visited.

Although she didn’t know the details, she understood that Rebecca had left him permanently.

It was much like her own situation. She never wanted to be found by her former husband, and Rebecca undoubtedly felt the same way about Vance.

Therefore, Nancy just said she knew nothing.

Vance ended the call with a sense of regret. He tried dialing Rebecca’s number once more, but it

remained unreachable.

Opening the app for the home security cameras, he was met with nothing but darkness. The lights in the living room were off.

He wondered if she was asleep in the bedroom. His brows furrowed as a growing restlessness took hold.

“Vance?” Catherine tightened her fists, though her expression conveyed only worry. “Maybe send Aiden

and Lucas to check on her?”

“It’s alright,” Vance replied as they made their way through the hotel lobby toward the rooms. “She is probably just fed up with me and turned her phone off.”

He wondered if she had blocked him again. If so, when he got back, he’d start by giving her a serious

lecture.

Catherine forced a smile. “She is fed up with you? How so?”

“She has done it more times than I can count,” he replied with a bitter smile.

At least in recent months, she had kept doing that.

Catherine’s smile faded, and Vance seemed to lose interest in conversation. They walked in silence to the seaside villa they had booked.

In his room, Vance sat down and began tinkering with his phone.

“Vance?” Catherine called out.

“Yeah, take a rest,” he hummed.

“Are you still trying to message Rebecca?”

“No, just handling a couple of work emails.”

Catherine relaxed, going to take a shower. Vance wrapped up his responses and returned to his chat thread with Rebecca.

He had sent a long string of messages, yet there was no sign that she had read or replied to any of them.

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“That ungrateful little thing,” he murmured to himself, checking the time.

If she had powered off her phone, it seemed unlikely she would turn it back on tonight. She was probably already asleep.

“Does she rest so peacefully without me around?” he murmured again. 1

That familiar sense of unease resurfaced, striking him intermittently over the past few days.

“Vance…” Catherine’s voice rang out again from behind him, sweet and coaxing.

He turned to find her wearing a nearly transparent slip nightgown, her hands lifted as she gathered her damp hair.

“Could you help blow-dry my hair? I don’t want to risk catching a cold,” she murmured, her tone growing even more coy.

Droplets from her hair trickled down, soaking the front of the gown and rendering the fabric even more sheer, clinging to her skin and highlighting every curve with striking clarity.

Getting up, he retrieved a bathrobe from the closet and draped it over her shoulders. “The air conditioning is running a bit low. Dress warmer to avoid getting sick.”

She paused to process it. He just guided her to sit at the vanity, then picked up the hairdryer and began to dry her hair with practiced ease.

His fingers threaded through her strands like a comb, gentle and skilled enough to avoid any painful tugs.

Her voice quivered. “Do you often do this for Rebecca at home?”

He paused, recalling the past. Yes, he had.

Five years ago, right after the accident, simple tasks like bathing or washing hair had been challenging for Rebecca.

He had taken care of her attentively, washing her feet, changing her bandages, shampooing, and drying her hair.

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