Married To My Billionaire Stepbrother

Chapter 202: His Way Of Comforting

Once Natalie was calm, Justin finally moved as he loosened his grip around her. He didn’t say a word and stepped out of the bed, only to get the water for her.

He sat next to her with the glass in his hand, but she didn’t react and continued to sit with her head lowered and her eyes closed. Her long hair covered the sides of her face.

Justin held her hands and made her hold the glass and moved it towards her mouth. She finally reacted, drinking the water in small sips. When she finished, he set the glass aside, picked up a hairband from the nightstand, and turned back to her.

He said no words and started fixing her messy hair with gentle caress of his long fingers, as if coaxing a child. Once her face was clear from all the hair strands around, he tied them at the back of her neck using the headband.

Natalie stayed silent, her head lowered, her lowered gaze looking at nothing in particular. Her eyelashes wet, her cheeks had the faint traces of tears on them.

Justin stood up and went to the bathroom, returning with a soft, damp napkin. He sat beside her once more, dabbing her face gently, wiping away the remnants of tears.

When he was done, he finally spoke. "Are you feeling better now?"

She nodded slightly, still not meeting his gaze. She hadn’t expected him to see her this way, vulnerable and shaken. She braced herself, thinking he might ask about her nightmare, the cause of her distress, but instead...

"Do you want to eat something?" he asked gently.

Surprised, she looked up, her swollen eyes meeting his, trying to understand what he was thinking.

demeanor. "I saw your favorite ice cream in the fridge. How

of how to respond. He was coaxing her gently, avoiding questions,

the deck?" he asked, then added, "The night air

She nodded again.

her hand, he led her outside to the deck. "Wait here," he said softly, before disappearing

back to her. He took some time to let her be

saw her standing by the railing, gazing quietly at the sky. He wondered what must she be thinking about. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but seeing

and punish the ones who must have

expression. He placed the ice cream tub on the table and said, "It’s

turned, seeing him standing beside a chair he’d pulled out for her at the small coffee table on the deck,

herself and gather her thoughts in the gentle breeze. It was his quiet way of caring for her, of understanding what she needed most at this

could he be

the railing, staring at him, lost

cream might start

to sit down, hearing him add, "Even if it

painted on her lips, watching as he settled in the chair next to her, his gaze fixed on the sky,

a little?" She knew he rarely ate sweets, especially ice cream, even when she’d offered it before. "I know you follow a strict diet, so it’s okay if you

bit of ice cream from her lips. "Is it really that good?"