His Wife Calls The Shots
Chapter 278: Treating Him Like a Lifeline in a Flood

Chapter 278: Chapter 278: Treating Him Like a Lifeline in a Flood

Chapter 278

Alexander Foster sat up and called for Mr. Ford.

For convenience, Mr. Ford’s room was arranged next to his, but this time, no matter how he called, no one came.

Just then the sound of rain intensified, and his voice mingled with the heavy rain, sounding weak.

Groping toward the doorway according to memory, his hand smoothly reached the door handle. Just as he was about to turn it, the door suddenly "moved on its own."

He was fully alert, immediately pressing down on the door handle, his voice sharp: "Who’s there?"

The rain raged outside, and a faint voice came through the crack in the door: "It’s... it’s me."

This voice...

His expression tightened, and he immediately opened the door.

As soon as the door opened, a person fell directly onto him, about to fall to the ground.

He caught her arms in time, feeling the miserable state of her whole body being drenched by the heavy rain and her tense body.

"What’s wrong?" he asked calmly.

She didn’t answer. She clung to his arms with both hands, her body continuing to fall, and her hands still trembling.

Alexander Foster had no choice but to pick her up, turn around, slowly walk towards the bed, and put her on it.

He was about to call for Mr. Ford, but the young lady wouldn’t let him go.

The whole person curled into his embrace, trembling.

"I’ll go find Mr. Ford to help you," he said softly.

"Help..." she whispered something.

"Hmm?" Alexander Foster lowered his head, moving closer to her face to listen.

He couldn’t see the distance, and he accidentally touched her cheek. His expression tightened, and he immediately straightened his waist.

"Milty... let me... stay with you... here..."

The weak voice came before he could ask what had happened. There was a sudden commotion outside.

Faint and not very distinct.

It lasted for more than a minute, then the sounds disappeared.

He lowered his head and asked a couple more questions, but she didn’t respond. She began to mumble unintelligible words.

Her hands clung to the clothes on his back as if he were a floating log in a flood, holding on tightly.

He calmed himself and reached for his clothes to wipe her face and hair.

She maintained her curled up position against him, not moving, while her body trembled slightly.

After a few minutes, her trembling slowly stopped, and she became completely calm.

Alexander Foster’s clothes became soaked one by one as he wiped away as much of the rainwater on her as possible.

But her clothes were still wet, and he couldn’t help her change them, nor could Mr. Ford.

There was no woman inside or outside the temple.

He sighed softly.

Maintaining this position for too long, his body began to feel sore, so he leaned back, propped a pillow behind him, and continued to use his dry clothes to wipe away her rainwater.

He wasn’t sure if she was injured. Although there was no smell of blood, her behavior was abnormal and worrisome.

Gradually, the rain stopped.

The wet clothes piled up on the bedside table, all wiped for the young lady.

Finally, in the deep silence of the night, he slowly dropped his hand with the damp clothes down beside the bed, leaned his head against the headboard, and fell asleep.

When he woke up, his position had changed.

He was lying flat on the bed, covered with a thin quilt, with no one beside him.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

He hadn’t noticed that he’d fallen asleep last night, and when he woke up, he had worried he was still holding the young lady. If Mr. Ford had come in, it would have been hard to explain.

But when did that young lady leave?