He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 322

"No, I'm perfectly fine," Ottilie said, sitting up against the headboard. "I'm just hungry."

Yorath watched her in silence.

Often, silence didn't mean an issue was resolved.

It meant the other person was formulating a completely different plan in their head.

Or worse, it meant he was absolutely nothing to her anymore—not even worth wasting a single word on.

"You never used to be like this."

Ottilie looked up at him. "What was I like?"

"You used to tell me everything. You never kept things bottled up."

She never used to guard herself against him like he was the enemy.

Ottilie replied smoothly, "Are you trying to reminisce with me?"

Yorath fell silent again.

When other couples reminisced, it was full of sweet memories.

When they did it, all they had was bloody, agonizing pain.

He went to get a tray of food and brought it to the bed, watching her eat.

She didn't have much of an appetite, only managing a simple bowl of light soup and some fresh cucumber.

In just a few days, she had lost a noticeable amount of weight, her fingers looking even more slender than before.

A heavy knot formed in Yorath's chest.

She had suffered terribly by being with him.

But he still couldn't bring himself to let her go.

At a hotel.

Inside the presidential suite.

Heath Schmidt had come looking for Nyssa Tarrant.

As soon as he walked in, he demanded, "Why didn't you tell me you were the one who drugged Ottilie?"

Nyssa had successfully terminated her contract, completely cutting ties with Quentin, and she couldn't have been more thrilled.

Even though she still had a glaring slap mark on her face and couldn't be seen in public.

Without the heavy pressure weighing on her, she felt incredibly light.

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