Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 123 - - Cynthia, are you trying to kill me?

Heaven, someone save him! He was about to be so angry he'd cough up blood! How could he get this woman to be a little gentler, a little more affectionate, a little more loving toward him?

Cynthia, however, was not at all pleased by his shout.

"Why shouldn't I laugh? You're fine now, aren't you? Why should I cry and whine?"

The moment the words left her mouth, she realized how bad his expression had become, and that the blood on his back seemed to be seeping out more and more. She hurried to soften her tone, trying to sound concerned.

"Uh... well... are you okay now?"

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Albert Wilson gritted his teeth and shot her a look of annoyance.

"Why are you still standing there? Hurry up and come over to change my bandages!"

After he had shouted earlier, it seemed that blood had begun to ooze from his back again. Jim suggested he let them change the bandages, but Albert insisted on waiting for her, wanting the chance to observe how she handled these things. After all, he still had suspicions about that Sunflower woman's true identity.

Cynthia felt a tremor in her heart. Oh no, changing bandages was her most familiar task, but she had to act nervous and inexperienced, right? So, she took a small step back, her voice nervous.

"Uh, Mr. Wilson, I've never done this before. I'm afraid I might hurt you. How about... you hire an experienced nurse instead?"

"No need! Just do it yourself. I can tolerate this little bit of pain!"

Albert Wilson squinted at her, his gaze calm on the surface, but a sharp light flickered behind his eyes. Reluctantly, Cynthia walked forward, knowing she had no other choice.

Slowly, she began to unwrap the bandages from his back. When she saw the slightly torn wound, her anger boiled inside her. It had all been for nothing—she had taken so much care to stitch it neatly and carefully, only for him to ruin it.

Although he was a man, the scar was just too long, stretching from his shoulder all the way to his waist. If he had to walk around with such a scar, anyone would probably be shocked, especially if he went to a beach or something. And yet, he still yelled and tore open the wound?

With this thought, Cynthia couldn't help but apply more pressure as she worked. Immediately, Albert Wilson howled in pain,

"Cynthia, are you trying to kill me?"

She retorted with annoyance,

"Sorry, Mr. Wilson, but I've never done this before. I'm bound to be a little rough. Just bear with it!"

As she spoke, she reached for the medication at the head of the bed, pretending to sprinkle it on his wound. In reality, she pulled out a different bottle from her pocket and applied a special powder from it. This medicine was made by Gary and was very effective for treating scars and knife wounds. Since Albert was lying on his stomach, he didn't notice the subtle action.

Albert Wilson had to swallow his frustration. After all, he insisted that she change his bandages. He had been the one to stubbornly claim that he could tolerate the pain, so now he had to endure it.

However, this incident did put his suspicions to rest. This woman was so clumsy, nearly killing him just by changing bandages. How could she possibly be the skilled "Sunflower" he had been wondering about?

After finishing with the medication and bandaging him up, Cynthia pretended to wipe sweat from her forehead and stepped back,

"Since you're fine now, I'll be taking my leave!"

The bandages were changed, and she had offered her care, so it was time for her to go, especially since she wanted to go home and get some rest.

Albert Wilson held back his anger and tried to keep his voice calm,

"Who told you you could leave? Stay and take care of me!"

"Uh..."

Cynthia, looking like she had heard the biggest joke of all, was stunned, her eyes wide with surprise,

"Stay and take care of you? But... isn't Miss Lucca supposed to come?"

Considering the way Lucca felt about him, she was sure that under these circumstances, Lucca would be at his side, tending to him without question. Come to think of it, where was Lucca now?

Albert Wilson shot her a sideways glance,

"Who told you she was coming?"

She felt uneasy under his gaze.

"Isn't she... so deeply in love with you? In a situation like this, shouldn't she be here taking care of you?"

"Let another woman stay by my side, while your wife is free to go on as she pleases? How can I, Albert Wilson, save face if this gets out?"

Albert Wilson gritted his teeth as he questioned her,

"Cynthia, is your heart made of stone? I thought we've been together for nearly two years, and I've never been bad to you, but you don't care whether I live or die?"

The look in his eyes held a hint of sadness and disappointment. It seemed like this time, he had truly been hurt. Cynthia had never seen him like this before, and though she felt some discomfort, she couldn't find the words to explain.

"I..."

Wasn't it because she knew he wasn't really in danger?

"If you feel guilty, then stay with me!"

He glanced at her, seeing her biting her lip, looking troubled and regretful. His frustration eased a little, realizing that acknowledging his mistakes and correcting them was what mattered.

As soon as he said this, Cynthia immediately panicked,

"Hey, hey, I can come during the day and leave at night, is that okay?"

She couldn't stay here; that would mean losing all her freedom. Besides, he should be grateful she wasn't staying here, or else he'd probably be dead by now.

Albert Wilson firmly rejected her,

"No way! What about when I need to shower at night?"

In her moment of panic, without thinking, she blurted out,

"I can wash you during the day!"

He really is something. It's just a shower, what difference does it make whether it's in the day or at night? But... what did he just say? Did he just ask her to wash him?

She stared at him in horror, only to see him grinning mischievously as he said with a sly smile,

"Alright! Then go ahead and help me wash now!"

"Ah?"

She was completely stunned, and then immediately blushed and cursed at him,

"Albert Wilson, I'm not your maid! Why should I humiliate myself like this to serve you? If you want to wash, do it yourself!"

She was so angry. First, he ordered her to change his bandages, and now he was pushing it even further by asking her to wash him? Why didn't he just go die?

Albert Wilson, seeing how angry she was, couldn't help but laugh inside.

"Although you're not my maid, you're my wife. If you don't serve me, who will?"

He teased her, feeling a sense of relief, and his mood lightened, making his wounds hurt less.

However, his casual remark, "you're my wife," made her heart skip several beats. She'd never felt this way before. After saving him from the brink of death, and realizing her feelings for him, she couldn't stay as indifferent as she once was.

But when she thought of his unreasonable request, she still blushed and tried to find an excuse,

"How can you take a shower in your condition?"

Albert Wilson silently laughed,

"Exactly because I can't shower, that's why I need you to help. You can just wet a towel and wipe me down!"