Ex-husband’s Regret (Ryan and Charlotte)
Regrt 183

Chapter 183

I lay back on the bed to read, but after who knows how long, I realized the book was upside down. I started feeling restless. I wondered what was wrong with him. If it was because of that gunshot... It should have been me.

I closed the book in a fluster and headed to the balcony for some fresh air. At that moment, someone knocked on the door, accompanied by Albert's voice. "Mrs. Frost."

My feet quickened involuntarily as I opened the door. "Albert, how is Ryan?"

"He has a fever."

I breathed a slight sigh of relief, thinking it was just a cold or something similar. But then Albert continued, "It's from the infection caused by the gunshot a few days ago. He won't let anyone touch him now, nor will he take any medicine. You're divorcing, and I shouldn't have come to you. But he was calling out your name in his sleep..."

I squeezed my hands. "I'll go see him."

It was right and proper for me to do so, emotionally and logically.

Due to the fever, Ryan's cheeks were flushed unnaturally, his long lashes casting shadows. His breathing was steady and deep, but his brow was still furrowed as if he had encountered a major worry. Albert pointed to the medicine on the bedside table. The doctor just prescribed this. It can reduce fever and inflammation."

I nodded. "Okay."

"Then I'll leave first. Call me if you need anything," said Albert.

After Albert had left, there were only the two of us in the spacious room.

I approached and touched his forehead. It was burning hot.

At least 38 or 39 degrees.

Unexpectedly, just as I was about to pull my hand away, he subconsciously gripped it, murmuring softly, Honey, Charlotte... Why do you want a divorce? Please don't get a divorce."

The room was quiet, and every word of his entered my ears clearly.

I stood there for a long time, bent down, and patted his cheek. "Ryan, wake up and take your medicine."

He vaguely opened his eyes, seeming a bit incredulous when he saw me. Suddenly, he exerted force and pulled me into his arms, whispering hoarsely, "I'm sorry for hurting you, disappointing you. You're right to scold me. I'm a bastard, a scumbag."

Caught off guard by his sudden pull, I managed to avoid his wound, but I could still feel the heat radiating from him. He was burning up with a fever.

He would never have such insight when he was lucid.

I leaned on the bed, feeling both angry and helpless. Then let's just get divorced quickly and not delay me any further.”

"I don't want to."

+15 BONUS

He still held me around the waist, but his eyes closed lightly, and his voice became less clear.

When this man had a fever, he seemed as drunk as a skunk.

Helplessly, I pried his hand off my waist and broke free from his embrace. Just as I was about to pull my hand away, my gaze suddenly sharpened.

On the inside of his wrist... there were several burns, a mix of black and red.

They were not all caused at the same time.

They weren't accidental burns... they were deliberate.

But with his current status, besides himself, no one dared to treat him like this.

I tried to widen my eyes, pressed my fingers against the inner corners of my eyes, endured the stinging in my nose, and patted his cheek again. "Ryan, what happened to your hand? The burns?"

"Hmm?"

He responded vaguely, as if not quite hearing me.

I bent down. "I said, the burns on your hand. How did you get them?"

His brow furrowed in his sleep, as if pondering, then relaxed again. "I miss Charlotte... If I burn myself, the pain in my heart will go away."

D