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.

away, he had indulged himself in self-destructive behavior on this day every year, letting the cold night air pierce him like the

only way to alleviate his

closed his eyes for

clear, he lifted

on the edge of the bed, he bent down, carefully picked her up, and gently laid her on the

fluttered, as if she was

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

darkness outside had been replaced by the

rose slowly, ushering

bed, Tilda gradually woke

she gathered her thoughts, she looked around

This was Lyndon’s room.

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