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.

behavior on this day every year, letting the cold night air pierce him like the grief in

the only way to

eyes for

he lifted

edge of the bed, he bent down, carefully

movements, Tilda’s eyelashes fluttered, as if she

softly patted her and cooed to help her drift back to sleep, just as he

settled, her breathing becoming

her peaceful face for a while before leaving

darkness outside had been replaced by the

sun rose slowly, ushering in

the bed, Tilda gradually

she gathered her thoughts, she looked around and suddenly

This was Lyndon’s room.

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