He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 37

Sienna looked up at him.

"Didn't you just tell me not to sleep in the bed with you?"

"You—" Grant's Adam's apple bobbed as the rest of his sentence caught in his throat.

He had fully expected Sienna to throw a fit, cry, play the victim, or even beg him.

But she did none of that.

She actually walked right over to the sofa without so much as a frown.

Yet, deep down, he knew this kind of compliance wasn't submission.

Grant's face darkened significantly. He turned and stormed into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. By the time he came out, Sienna was already lying down.

She was on her side, her back to him, the thin blanket pulled only up to her waist. Her long hair cascaded over the edge of the sofa, and her face looked sickly pale.

Grant shot her a look, feeling intensely agitated. He violently yanked the curtains shut and flicked off the lights.

The room plunged into darkness, making the howling of the wind outside all the more prominent.

Sienna kept her eyes closed, but her mind was painfully alert.

In the pitch-black silence, every little noise was magnified tenfold.

Suddenly, the ring of Grant's phone shattered the quiet.

He picked it up, glanced at the caller ID, and immediately put it on speaker.

Lyla's voice filtered into the room.

"Grant... are you asleep?"

Her voice was sticky-sweet and dragged out, identical to the aggrieved, pitiful act she had put on at the banquet earlier.

Grant leaned back against the headboard, his tone softening instantly.

"Not yet. What's wrong?"

Sienna's eyelashes fluttered, and her fingers twitched involuntarily.

She had never heard Grant use that tone of voice before.

It wasn't dismissive, it wasn't an obligation—he was genuinely coddling her.

The line was quiet for two seconds before Lyla spoke softly.

"When Eleanor humiliated me in front of all those people today, it really hurt."

"And Sienna... the way she spoke to me, I really don't know what I did to offend her."

Grant tapped his finger idly against the edge of his phone.

"Don't take it to heart."

Fully weaponizing his patience, Lyla pushed her luck, her fake crying growing louder.

"But I still feel awful~ Grant, do you think I'm annoying, too?"

"No," Grant replied without missing a beat. "You aren't like her."

A bitter, chilling smile touched Sienna's lips.

One was the untouchable muse he held in the palm of his hand, and the other was the scheming wife he despised. Of course they weren't the same.

That was why he treated them like night and day. He could soothe his precious muse while seamlessly grinding his wife into the dirt.

Finally placated, Lyla's voice became much more upbeat.

"Then chat with me for a while. I miss you so much I can't sleep."

"Sure."

Grant settled deeper into the pillows, his voice low and gentle.

The two of them continued talking back and forth, entirely wrapped up in their own little world.

Lying on her side, Sienna slowly curled her fingers, gripping the edge of the blanket.

At first, she could endure it, but then the system's punishment descended on her without any warning.