She closed her eyes momentarily and met his gaze. “I returned to retrieve my belongings,” she stated firmly.
Dexter ascended the stairs and stopped before her, “Just tell me what you need, and I’ll bring it to you,” he assured succinctly. There was a menacing intensity in his gaze. Josie trembled as he drew closer but shook off the tremor and asserted, “My laptop.”
“Where are your keys?” Little did she know that Dexter was informed of her arrival in Mason Garden. Her head throbbed, and she retorted, “Forget about it.”
As she turned, her wrist was seized. “Mason Garden isn’t a place you can simply stroll in as you like,” a voice chided. The grip on her wrist was intense. Her body lurched backward and fell into Dexter’s arms. It was a moment frozen in time.
Dexter was slightly agitated as Josie’s complexion grew unusually pale. The creases on his forehead deepened as he swiftly carried her, carefully placing her onto the soft mattress in the master bedroom. Josie’s mind raced as the haunting memories of that fateful night resurfaced. “Get out!” she roared.
She wrestled against his grasp, but he held her hand firmly. He scorned, “I have no intention of having sex with a sick woman.”
Josie’s initial shock subsided, but an underlying discomfort persisted. Dexter rose abruptly, pacing the bedroom before swiftly going down the stairs.
Josie crumpled onto the soft bed as the balcony door clicked shut, catching whiffs of his lingering scent that danced in her nostrils. Her head spun relentlessly as if being pulled into a swirling vortex.
A pang of regret washed over her for not taking the medicine that Dexter had sent earlier. The drip’s efficacy had faded away.
With a pounding headache and sore eyes, Josie realized she might be coming down with a cold. Her eyelids were heavy, and she slowly drifted away to sleep.
Dexter hurriedly fetched the medical kit and found Josie curled up and asleep. He shook her in panic, “Josie, wake up.”
“Josie, open up,” said Dexter as he slid a thermometer into her mouth. Half asleep, Josie complied. Dexter’s eyes briefly flickered to her wrist, where scars from the previous injection were still visible.
No more needles for her. Dexter gingerly prepared and administered the medicine to her as her brows furrowed in bitterness. Julie came into the room with a bowl of hot soup and carefully served, “Sir, here you go.”
Dexter gently wiped Josie’s mouth with a tissue and muttered, “Leave it.” Josie felt his every gesture was tender and delicate, as if she were his most cherished treasure. “Dexter…” she murmured faintly.
“Yes.” “Did you spend time with Summer this past month just to make me jealous?”
It was a presumptuous question, but Josie mustered the courage to address the pressing question. Fully aware of its potential implications, she had genuine intentions and earnestly sought a path forward for their struggling marriage.
Dexter put down the bowl and said indifferently, “Do you want to hear the truth?”
Her heart sank.
“Not entirely.” So, he had ulterior motives with Summer.
