The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 109

Victoria tried to slip out of bed, but every time she moved, McNeil moaned in pain, his brow furrowing. She had no choice but to stay put.

With a resigned sigh, she lay back down beside him, fully dressed. The night was chilly, yet McNeil's body radiated heat.

After a long, exhausting day and hours spent nursing McNeil, Victoria drifted off without realizing it.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the tall windows, warming the room. Victoria felt soft, rhythmic breaths against her cheek. She startled awake, only to find herself wrapped tightly in McNeil's arms.

Her heart sank a little. Gently, she pressed a hand to his forehead.

The fever had broken.

As she tried to pull her hand away, McNeil caught it, mumbling, "Violet..." The rest was lost in a sleepy slur.

Of course. Last night, she must have lost her mind.

downstairs. She'd meant to just leave, but instead, she found herself

she left without a backward

would always be connected, but that was all. She didn't want her

long

returned, but when she answered, it was Gwyneth bouncing in, followed closely by a striking woman. Early spring sunlight caught

recognized

"Is McNeil home?"

the whole night trying to reach McNeil, and Gwyneth had

Victoria was there, she could always claim she was just dropping Gwyneth

with a sigh. Compared to Mrs. McNeil, this woman had a certain confidence and energy- sharper, more dynamic. Victoria was gentle and quiet, years spent at home softening

father. Violet followed briskly, but Xenia caught up with her and spoke in a low

doctor saw

creased, and she quickened

Gwyn, go play for a bit,"

a bandage wrapped around his back, a hint of red seeping