Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back!

Chapter 285

Leanne still had a bit of a cough, and after work one evening, she picked up a few pears, planning to steam them when she got home.

Exiting the elevator and turning down the corridor, she saw someone in front of her apartment door.

Curtis was sitting on a black suitcase, facing the corridor, seemingly waiting for her return.

His long legs stretched out casually, his head leaned back in a relaxed pose. Upon seeing her, his lips slowly curved into a smile.

Leanne was inexplicably charmed by his grin.

Looking at his leisurely demeanor, then at the suitcase he was sitting on, she paused, a hint of wariness in her expression.

“What are you doing here?”

Curtis didn’t speak but pulled her hand towards him. Leanne tried to wriggle free but couldn’t escape his grip, and he placed her hand on his forehead.

The heat under her palm startled her. “You have a fever?”

Curtis hummed in confirmation. “You passed the flu to me.”

His cheerful tone made it sound as if catching the flu was a stroke of good fortune.

Leanne was speechless. “And why are you happy about that?”

“What do

you think?”

Curtis had been feverish for half the day, initially at 101°F, and after measuring his temperature no less than ten times throughout the afternoon, he braved the climb to her door only when it reached nearly 103°F.

Afraid that anything less severe wouldn’t soften her heart enough.

Now, despite the throbbing pain in his head nearing explosion, his heart was setting off fireworks.

“Leanne, you have to take care of me.”

as an

me sick, why should I go there?” Curtis’ reasoning was a pile of nonsense, “Whoever spreads

you to the

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Chapter 285

voice muffled but unmistakably

her lip, pulling away, “Don’t-”

losing his

him in her arms.

around his back, pulling him into a

to have passed out, utterly limp his weight pressing down on her, nearly bringing her

see his face and wasn’t sure if he

“Curtis?”

No response.

her strength was no match for the

grown man.

door, chose this moment to emerge, only to quickly retreat and close his door when

Curtis falling ill first. Then, she could have sent him away without a

the Richardsons. Someone would have taken

she couldn’t bear to

of her without asking for anything in return, both morally

What a headache.

onto the

suitcase.

and drenched in sweat, she took a temperature reading: 104°F.

of

of water and some fever-reducing medicine.

the couch, a hand

he usually exuded an air of effortless grace. Now, his feverish vulnerability

him, “Time for

eyes, the high fever reddening them slightly.

015

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