The Ceo’s Convict Wife by Jennifer Mike novel Chapter 777

Chapter 777 

He was the one talking! 

“I want you, Jon!” Jonathan paused a second, wondering whose voice was replying in his mind, before realizing it was Rosalie’s. 

Jonathan stared at Rosalie and stroked his temple with one hand. His head started to ache as if it was being pierced by a sharp needle. 

“Rosie, if you want me, then you can’t leave me. Not now, not ever!” The voices appeared again. 

“Okay, Jon. I won’t leave you!” 

“Rosie… Rosie…” 

Jonathan kept calling Rosalie’s name as if it was the most important thing for him. 

His head throbbed with pain, a jumble of fragmented memories and 

conversations racing through his mind too quickly to grasp. 

“What are these voices and conversations? Is this between her and me?” he wondered. 

“Mr. Youngblood, are you experiencing a headache again?” Gary noticed Jonathan’s unusual behavior and rushed over. 

Jonathan took a deep breath but let out a groan in the process. This headache was more intense than any he had had before. 

Rosalie, who held Guillermo in her arms, hurried to Jonathan, her voice laced with concern. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” 

At that moment, Jonathan’s face turned ashen, a sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. He furrowed his brow and pressed one hand against his throbbing temple, the pain evident in his deep-set eyes. 

“Mr. Youngblood seems to be experiencing a severe headache. I’ll call Dr. Hale to come over,” the butler said, quickly making his way to the phone. 

Rosalie gazed at Jonathan with concern etched across her face. She retrieved a tissue to wipe the sweat from his brow, but as her hand approached, he suddenly seized her wrist. 

“What… What are you doing?” He spoke through clenched teeth, trembling from the pain. 

“I just want to wipe your sweat,” Rosalie explained calmly. He gripped her wrist tightly, causing pain, but she didn’t flinch. “Are you hurting right now? Please don’t talk. The more you talk, the more it’ll hurt. Just hold on a little longer. The doctor will be here soon.” 

Her voice was gentle yet firm, a comforting reassurance. 

Amid the ordeal, a fractured memory flashed through Jonathan’s mind. 

“Are you experiencing stomach pain, Jon? Wait for me. I’ll buy some medicine 

and be right back…” The same voice from the past resurfaced, causing him to drift into a momentary reverie. 

Reality and memories blurred, and Jonathan gazed at Rosalie as he recalled the days of their past. 

They had lived in a modest rental home, and Rosalie was watching Jonathan with concern before dashing out of the room into the darkness. 

And the pain continued, in the past and also in the present. 

After what felt like an eternity, a fragment of a memory emerged in Jonathan’s mind. It was the moment Rosalie returned. She had opened the door and rushed to Jonathan, medicine in hand. “Jon, I bought the medicine…” 

Rosalie came back and didn’t leave Jonathan. 

“Rosie…” Jonathan moaned, the name slipping past his lips. 

Both Rosalie and Jonathan were taken aback by the words. 

It had been a long time since Rosalie heard Jonathan call her that. Even in their earlier, more intimate days, he would use “Rosie” privately. 

For him, she wasn’t just the woman he loved. She was also his family. 

He had said that addressing her as Rosie made him feel less lonely. 

Rosalie reached out with her free hand, the one Jonathan wasn’t holding, and gently touched the damp hair on his forehead. She leaned in, resting her forehead against his. “Jon, I’m here. Just lie down for a while until the doctor arrives.” 

He stared at her as if his excruciating headache was nothing compared to the shock he felt. 

“Why did I address her as Rosie just now?” The name was so familiar as if it had been on the tip of his tongue for years. He seemed to have whispered it countless times. 

“You…” He began to ask, his words catching in his throat. 

“Well, don’t talk now. You have a headache, and it’s easy to bite your tongue when you speak. I’ll answer any questions you have when you’re feeling better,” Rosalie reassured him. “Let go of my hand first. I’ll give you a massage. It might help you feel more comfortable.” 

After a moment of contemplation, he slowly closed his eyes and released his grip on her wrist. 

Her wrist was finally freed.