The Ceo’s Convict Wife by Jennifer Mike

Chatper 777

Chapter 777

He was the one talking!

“I want you, Jon!” Jonathan paused a second, wondering whose voice was replying in his mind, before realizing it was Rosalie’s.

Jonathan stared at Rosalie and stroked his temple with one hand. His head started to ache as if it was being pierced by a sharp needle.

“Rosie, if you want me, then you can’t leave me. Not now, not ever!” The voices appeared again.

“Okay, Jon. I won’t leave you!”

“Rosie… Rosie…”

Jonathan kept calling Rosalie’s name as if it was the most important thing for him.

His head throbbed with pain, a jumble of fragmented memories and

conversations racing through his mind too quickly to grasp.

“What are these voices and conversations? Is this between her and me?” he wondered.

“Mr. Youngblood, are you experiencing a headache again?” Gary noticed Jonathan’s unusual behavior and rushed over.

Jonathan took a deep breath but let out a groan in the process. This headache was more intense than any he had had before.

Rosalie, who held Guillermo in her arms, hurried to Jonathan, her voice laced with concern. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

furrowed his brow and pressed

severe headache. I’ll call Dr. Hale to come

wipe the sweat from his brow,

He spoke through clenched teeth, trembling from the pain.

she didn’t flinch. “Are you hurting right now? Please don’t talk. The more you talk, the more it’ll hurt. Just hold on a little longer.

voice was gentle yet firm, a comforting

ordeal, a fractured memory flashed through Jonathan’s

you experiencing stomach pain, Jon? Wait

the past resurfaced, causing him to

memories blurred, and Jonathan gazed at Rosalie as

had lived in a modest rental home, and Rosalie was watching Jonathan with concern before dashing out

in the past and

was the moment Rosalie returned. She had opened the door and rushed to Jonathan, medicine in hand. “Jon, I

and

name slipping past his

and Jonathan were taken aback by the

Rosalie heard Jonathan call her that. Even in their earlier, more intimate days, he would

just the woman he loved. She

had said that addressing her as Rosie made him

free hand, the one Jonathan wasn’t holding, and gently touched the damp hair on his forehead. She leaned in, resting her forehead against his. “Jon, I’m here. Just lie down for

as if his excruciating headache was nothing compared to the shock he

I address her as Rosie just now?” The name was so familiar as if it had been on the tip of his tongue for

began to ask, his words

when you speak. I’ll answer any questions you have when you’re feeling better,” Rosalie reassured him. “Let go of my hand first. I’ll

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