Three years of loving him, three days to erase myself from his world novel Chapter 228

In the master bedroom upstairs.

This was Clara's room. In the entire three years they'd been together, the number of times Julian had actually stepped foot in here could be counted on one hand. Tonight, he was carrying her directly inside.

Clara felt a flutter of nervous anticipation.

Julian didn't bother turning on the main overhead light. After setting her down gently on the edge of the mattress, he switched on the small bedside lamp and glanced at her. "Where's the first aid kit?"

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Clara nervously twisted the luxurious bedsheets around her fingers and murmured, "On the shelf, the white box on the second tier..."

Julian nodded, grabbed the kit, and knelt on one knee before her to carefully apply the ointment. His towering frame cast a long, protective shadow under the warm, yellow glow of the lamp, blanketing her entirely. It felt incredibly intimate, but more than that, it offered a profound, overwhelming sense of security and tenderness.

Watching the focused and patient man in front of her, Clara's heart raced wildly.

At that moment, she couldn't help but recall how, on this very bed, she had once tossed and turned with a terrible, burning fever. She had called him time and time again in the dead of night, but he ignored her calls. When he finally answered, he had coldly told her to find some medicine herself because he was busy... so detached, as if she meant absolutely nothing to him.

Now, he had truly, fundamentally changed.

Having loved him so deeply, the sheer contrast struck a deep, agonizing chord within her.

Clara's eyes started to sting with unshed tears.

Hearing her soft sniffle, Julian paused his movements. He looked up at her, his gaze heavy and piercing in the quiet of the night, utterly captivating. "Did I hurt you?"

They were so incredibly close their breaths mingled, looking like the most intimate lovers in the world.

Clara's eyes welled up again. She shook her head slightly and whispered, "No..."

Julian smiled softly. Perhaps the atmosphere was simply too perfect for tenderness, because he couldn't stop himself. He reached up, gently touched her warm cheek, and asked in a low, coaxing voice, "Then what's wrong? Talk to me... hmm?"

Clara's heart skipped a beat, and she lowered her gaze. "It just feels... surreal. Like a beautiful dream..."

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