Marriage Novel 63

Posted by adminh, ? Views, Released on October 30, 2024

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The Contract Marriage

Chapter 63 Want To Drink The Soup You Made

Wilson Zoha issued his order in a stern tone.

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Joyce Albert hesitated as she looked at Wilson Zoha. She couldn’t understand him. Just moments ago, his girlfriend, Madison, was here and he didn’t want her to feed him. Now he was asking Joyce to do it. What had changed?

Was it a form of revenge because Joyce had rejected him?

The more Joyce thought about it, the more she believed it was possible. Her heart grew uneasy.

However, despite her discomfort, Joyce had no choice but to comply. In front of this powerful man and burdened by her guilt, she slowly picked up the heated bowl from the bedside table, opened the lid, and carefully spooned some rice, feeding it into Wilson’s mouth.

Wilson opened his mouth and solemnly ate the food that Joyce fed him.

His mood seemed to improve significantly after consuming that spoonful of rice.

As he looked at the woman who was being extra cautious, wearing a white shirt, wide–cut trousers, and a simple ponytail tied up, with a few strands of hair hanging on her forehead, partially covering her forehead, there was a faint glow reflecting off her face under the sunlight.

Despite her obviously professional makeup, Joyce exuded an innocent and sweet aura, causing Wilson’s once cold heart to warm up.

Wilson pretended to rub his eyes and pointed to another warmed bowl placed on the shelf, saying with pride, “There’s chicken soup in there. The rice is too dry. I want to drink soup.”

Despite witnessing Joyce’s behavior, Wilson couldn’t bring himself to be cruel to her. However, he believed it was necessary to teach her a lesson. After all, she had been cruel to him last night by heartlessly rejecting him and going to dinner with her ex–boyfriend. Moreover, she hadn’t taken the initiative to visit him in the hospital today and had instead sent a representative from the company’s public relations department.

With these thoughts in mind, Wilson struggled to control his expression. He watched as Joyce obediently scooped up a spoonful of soup, preparing to feed it to him. He said, “The soup shouldn’t be too hot. Blow on it to cool it down first.”

Joyce could only lower her head and blow on the soup in the porcelain spoon. After a while, she said, “It should be okay now. It shouldn’t be too cold either.” She then handed the spoon to Wilson’s lips.

Wilson sipped the soup, finding the temper to be just right. It seemed that Joyce was quite

experienced in taking care of others.

Joyce watched as Wilson finished the soup. She took her spoon back and scooped up another spoonful from the heated bowl. She lowered her head as before and blew on it briefly before offering it to Wilson’s lips.

However, he tilted his head indifferently and said, “I don’t want to eat anymore. It’s not appetizing.”

Joyce’s hand, which was suspended in the air, paused momentarily. Initially, she thought Wilson was intentionally making things difficult for her. But when she saw the expression on his face, it

furrowed didn’t seem like an act. She could only patiently respond, “Even if it’s not appetizing, you still need to eat.

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Chapter 63 Want To Drink The Soup You Made

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Unexpectedly, Wilson replied, “If I want to boost my energy, I should drink delicious chicken soup, like the one you made.”

Seeing his appearance, still resembling an aristocratic son even during workdays, Joyce couldn’t help but raise the corner of her mouth. Furthermore, Wilson’s praise made her feel both embarrassed and delighted.

No one would be unhappy when praised, especially when it came from the cunning Wilson. But wasn’t this chicken soup delivered by Madison? At least, it wasn’t…

With these thoughts in mind, Joyce’s heart grew sour. She shook her head, refusing to dwell on it any longer, while also suppressing the doubts in her heart.

“Miss. Claire will be leaving Zoha Financial Company tonight to join another company for an inspection. Luckily, I can go home and help you make chicken soup. Now, please drink this.” Joyce said awkwardly.

Wilson’s eyes sparkled with a hint of joy, but his face remained cold. “Well, don’t be too late. I will rest early tonight.”

Joyce nodded. “I’ll do my best to come back earlier.”

After that, although the atmosphere in the ward remained somewhat awkward, it was clearly much better than before. Joyce watched as Wilson refused to eat the soup brought by Madison. She tried to say a few words, and Wilson reluctantly ate a little. However, he refused to open his mouth to eat the rest, leaving Joyce with no choice but to pour the remaining food into the trash can with a tinge of regret.

As she returned to the ward, Wilson squinted his eyes and lay down on the bed. His smooth and fair face was covered in a faint light. His long and dense eyelashes fluttered, and his thin, seductive lips curved slightly. The curve made him appear illusory and blurry, leaving Joyce standing at the door unable to

move.

Was such a man really the one who had married her? And just yesterday, he had expressed his affection so warmly.

All of this was unimaginable, and even now, Joyce wasn’t entirely sure.

“Aren’t you going home? Shouldn’t you go back to your boss?” Wilson, who was lying on the bed, suddenly opened his eyes. His dark eyes stared straight ahead, filled with complexity.

It felt as if someone had suddenly grabbed her, causing Joyce’s once smooth and delicate face to flush. She quickly turned her face and coughed twice before saying, “I… I’m going home. You’re here, and there’s nothing else you need my help with, right?”

“Nothing,” Wilson replied faintly.

“In that case, I’ll go home first.” After saying that, Joyce walked to the bed, grabbed her bag, and prepared to leave.

However, as she turned around, she felt her wrist being tightly held by a long and handsome hand.

Joyce was taken aback and looked at Wilson with confusion.

Wilson opened his mouth, as if wanting to say something. The light flickered and illuminated the woman in front of him. But after a long while, he remained silent. The strength in Joyce’s hand gradually faded, and Wilson quietly lay on the bed.