Chapter 2270

It appeared that he had mistaken Tilda for Rosanna due to his intoxication.

A bitter smile crossed his lips.

Glancing at Tilda, he noticed a basin and a bottle of alcohol on the bedside table, items used to lower one’s fever.

He realized he must have had a fever last night.

Did Tilda bring him back from the cemetery?

He pondered that she must have suppressed her dislike for him, even if just for one night, to take care of him.

Lyndon’s gaze softened as he looked at the sleeping Tilda.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken care of him like this.

in self-destructive behavior on this day every year, letting the cold night air

only way

his eyes for

became clear, he lifted the

leaning her head on the edge of the bed, he bent down,

Tilda’s eyelashes fluttered, as if she was about to

to help her drift back to

soon settled, her breathing becoming even

face for a while before leaving the room

outside had been replaced by the bright

warm winter sun rose slowly, ushering in a new

bed, Tilda gradually woke

she

This was Lyndon’s room.

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