SWNOVELS Chapter 74
Episode 74
Elijah deliberately ignored her presence, turning his attention to the rain-streaked window, finding a strange solace in the rhythmic patter against the glass that seemed to soothe his rattled nerves.
Upon their arrival at the villa, he discovered Elizabeth had succumbed to a feverish slumber, her forehead alarmingly hot to the touch.
She was lost in the grip of a nightmare, whispering fretfully, tears mingling with those already dried upon her cheeks.
With a grim expression, Elijah hoisted her into his arms without an ounce of gentleness.
His movements were brusque, reflecting his inner turmoil.
Elizabeth, uncomfortable and disoriented in his hold, shifted slightly.
This minor movement reignited a spark of the desire he thought he had controlled, tightening his grip on her as if fearing she might slip away.
Oliver caught a glimpse of Elizabeth’s distress and ventured cautiously, “Ms.
Sandra seems to be quite ill.
Should we not take her to the hospital?” At the mere mention of a hospital, Elizabeth stirred in her feverish state, clutching desperately at Elijah’s suit with a childlike panic in her slurred voice.
“I’m not going! No!
” Elijah paused, his thoughts clearly weighing on him before he instructed, “Get the doctor to our house.
You wait in the living room.” With urgency, he swiftly ascended the staircase to the master bedroom with Elizabeth in his arms.
The house was eerily quiet, devoid of any staff.
Noticing her drenched clothes, almost instinctively, he pulled a blanket from the bed, spread it carefully, and laid her down on it.
This was unfamiliar territory for him.
He rubbed his temples, visibly disturbed by the situation.
After a moment, he strode to the closet with a stern expression, retrieving a set of pajamas for her.
Elizabeth, drifting in and out of consciousness, blinked her eyes open, her vision blurry but recognizing the contours of the familiar room.
Her fever induced a dizzy haze, making the room appear to spin.
When she glimpsed Elijah approaching with a look of concern, holding her pajamas, she could hardly believe it.
It felt like nothing more than a dream, a fleeting illusion in her mind.
She couldn’t believe it—Elijah, of all people, was showing such concern for her.
As Elijah came closer and began to help her change, her body tensed involuntarily, haunted by the memories of the recent unpleasant incident in the car.
Noticing her discomfort, Elijah’s voice softened, his patience thinning but gentle.
“Change out of your wet clothes into these dry ones before you rest.” “Okay,” she responded, too weary to argue what she believed was merely a figment of her imagination.
She began to unbutton her blouse.
Noticing her action, Elijah discreetly turned away, his expression shifting subtly, confirming in Elizabeth’s mind that even in her dream, he maintained a respectful distance.
Revisiting their shared moments, his gestures had been more about fulfilling a need than showing affection, making her feel reprimanded instead of cherished.
Elizabeth didn’t dwell on the thought.
With haste, she changed into fresh clothes and slipped under the covers of her bed.
The plush silk quilt embraced her—a luxury she could never resist.
She sank into a fitful sleep, the comfort of the quilt a stark contrast to the turmoil in her mind.
(Elijah paused at the threshold of the bedroom, his gaze lingering on Elizabeth as she slept serenely.
His eyes then drifted to the scattered clothes on the floor.
Muttering to himself, he mused, “What am I to do with these?”) The next morning arrived.
Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered open, her vision clouded and slow to clear.
As her surroundings gradually came into view—the opulent master bedroom she knew so well—memories of the previous night surfaced, along with the vivid image of Elijah’s worried expression in her dream.
She massaged her throbbing temples, trying to dispel the remnants of the dream.
She had allowed herself to wallow in fantasies for far too long, over two years of wishful thinking.
It was time to put an end to it.
After all, it had been just a dream.
Her reverie was interrupted by a knock.
Before she had a chance to respond, the door creaked open.
An unfamiliar middle-aged woman entered, bearing a tray.
“Who are you?” Elizabeth asked, her voice tinged with confusion and curiosity.