Sweet Flash Marriage with the Restrained Tycoon (Isabelle and Damien) novel Chapter 837

Chapter 837 Remembering Hector

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She leaned against the bathroom sink, fingers clamped tight to its rim, retching hard until her cheeks burned crimson.

Harold stepped up beside her and stroked slow, soothing circles across her back.

He nearly opened his mouth to ask if she might be expecting, yet caught the words before they slipped out. It couldn’t possibly be that; they’d always taken proper precautions.

Claudia wiped her mouth, splashed cold water on her face, and took a few steadying breaths, completely missing Harold’s unfinished question.

“My head is killing me,” she managed, still panting lightly.

Harold helped her up, and when her legs wobbled, he simply scooped her into his arms and carried her back to the bedroom. She sank into the mattress without a word.

–He brought her a glass of warm water, and she drank it slowly, color gradually returning to her cheeks.

Harold brushed a strand of hair from her face. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

Claudia just shook her head.

“I need to lie down for a bit. Wake me when dinner’s ready?” She reached for his hand, which was still resting against her cheek.

“Okay, get some rest.” He pulled the light comforter over her and watched as she murmured something unintelligible, eyes already closing. Within minutes, she was asleep.

Harold slipped out, leaving the door slightly ajar, and stepped onto the balcony.

He lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and was about to stub it out when he noticed a sheet of paper that had drifted from the study.

He walked over, bent down, and picked it up carefully.

It was a sketch. The face looked a lot like Claudia’s, but the features were softer, less defined–unmistakably her older brother. Hector Bowman.

Harold’s brow furrowed. He gathered the other loose sketches from the floor and tucked them into a storage box nearby.

No wonder she’s been off lately. And here I was thinking she might be pregnant.

He pulled out his phone, scrolled through old photos, and stopped at a slightly blurry one Harvey had taken at the mall years ago. In the background, Hector was helping Claudia with a claw machine.

If he were still alive, he’d be around Harvey’s age now.

He tried again to picture the man in the light–blue suit from that night, but the memory stayed hazy.

OGA

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Chapter 837 Remembering Hector

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Back in the kitchen, he checked the pork belly simmering on the stove, then returned to the bedroom.

Claudia was still asleep, breathing evenly. These days, her reactions seemed quieter–not like beføre, when even a passing mention of her family could send her into a spiral.

Maybe she’d grown numb. Or maybe time had dulled the sharpest edges of the pain.

Harold lay down quietly behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist. She stirred slightly, mumbling “Harold?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Hearing his voice, she relaxed instantly, turning over to curl against his chest. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and she could feel the warmth of his skin and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

She rested a hand on his waist, head nestled in the crook of his arm. There was something about Harold that always grounded her.

His hand moved in slow, soothing strokes along her back, then came to rest on her hair.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered. “I’ll wake you when the food’s ready.”

Claudia hummed softly and drifted off again. Her headache had faded, but a heavy drowsiness pulled her under.

She didn’t wake until early afternoon, still lying partly across Harold’s chest.

“Harold?”

Her voice was soft, barely a whisper.

He didn’t stir, but she noticed the faint flutter of his eyelashes. He was pretending, remembering how he’d reacted last time she touched his abs. She didn’t call him out on it.

Instead, feeling oddly bold, she shifted closer. The afternoon light poured into the room, sharpening the lines of his face.

“Harold,” she said again, her voice low.

When he still didn’t respond, she leaned in and pressed her lips lightly to his–a clumsy, tender kiss–then drew back.

Harold kept his breathing even, but inside he was reeling, He’d expected her to do something, but not that.

Then he heard her whisper, almost to herself, “I think I saw my brother, Harold. Can you help me find

him?”

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