I Fell for the Man Who Ruined Me, Then He Forgot He Ever Loved Me Back novel Chapter 279

It was already past nine o'clock that night when Jorrod finished his dressing change and headed home.

In the car, Jeremy sat in the passenger seat accompanying him. A notification chimed from his phone.

He subconsciously looked up at the rearview mirror. In the slightly dim, rectangular glass, he saw the man in the backseat resting with his eyes closed. His back barely leaned against the seat, his brows knitted together as if he were in considerable discomfort.

Jeremy looked down, finished sending his message, and turned around. "Boss, the profile you asked me to look into has been sent to your phone."

Jorrod opened his eyes and picked up the phone resting beside his thigh.

He swiped his thumb across the screen, bringing up a man's ID photo against a blue background.

Jorrod lowered his eyelashes, staring at it intently for a few seconds. With a swipe of his long finger, he dismissed the photo. His dark, bottomless eyes slowly focused on the text below.

"George Quinn, Male, 48 years old..."

-

The doctor had strictly forbidden the wound from touching water. But driven by habit, the first thing Jorrod did when he got home was head into the bathroom for a quick sponge bath. By the time he pushed the door open, the lingering steam had the searing pain on his back flaring up in relentless waves.

Mindful of the wound, he slipped into a smooth, charcoal-gray silk pajama shirt.

Leaving it unbuttoned, he let the fabric drape loosely over his torso and walked back to the bedroom.

His footsteps halted in front of the bed. Jorrod lowered his gaze, his eyes locking onto a specific spot. Bending down, he picked up The Memory Lamp sitting on the nightstand.

Catching sight of something, Jorrod furrowed his brows.

He brought it closer to his face. Raising his hand, he stared for two seconds before rubbing his thumb over the faint marker stains left behind.

The message board was designed to be easily erasable. Words written on it were never meant to be permanent. Over time, through endless touches and constant gazing, the ink had inevitably faded and worn away.

Jorrod casually set the nightlight down on a high cabinet by the wall.

-

Sienna didn't find out about her father's hospitalization until the next day.

She had nearly dropped her phone in sheer terror when she got the call. Rushing over in a panic, she finally realized it was a false alarm. It wasn't some bloody, catastrophic wreck—just a few minor scrapes and bumps. Only then did she finally breathe a sigh of relief.

George had originally intended to keep this from his daughter.

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