The sound of water droplets hitting her hair woke Josie from her slumber. As she regained her senses, she spoke, “Dexter, you have a fiancée.”
“Yeah,” he responded calmly, seemingly unfazed. “I’ve told you before, you are mine for life.”
Josie looked up, observing the movement of his Adam’s apple on his neck. She was about to retort when Dexter released her. He took her hand and led her back to the master bedroom.
“What are you doing?” Josie exclaimed in disbelief.
“Sleep with me.”
“You’ve gone mad!”
“I won’t touch you.”
Perhaps due to exhaustion, Dexter’s voice was hoarse. “Sleep with me, Josie. I won’t check what you just sent.”
That sentence struck a chord with Josie, leaving her motionless.
So, in the end, the two lay on their sides, with Dexter holding her from behind, making no inappropriate moves.
Josie could hear his slow and steady breathing. The recent stress must have taken a toll on him, as he was truly exhausted.
Just when she thought Dexter had fallen asleep, he suddenly asked, “Why did you choose white that day?”
Josie’s heart skipped a beat.
“I explained it back then.”
Dexter’s tone was ambiguous. “On the day you exposed Leanne’s plagiarism, you were also wearing white.”
Just that one instance made him unable to remember anyone else in white.
“That’s just a coincidence.”
Dexter tightened his grip around her waist, not indicating whether he believed her or not.
A torrential rainstorm outside made the weather unusually cold. Dexter held her especially tight, and it took a long time for Josie to fall asleep. When she woke up the next day, he was gone.
Only the warmth by her side reminded her that last night wasn’t a hallucination. She turned over and found a pair of cotton slippers that had appeared beside the bed at some point.
Walking out of the room, Josie looked down from the second floor and could see the scene below.
A group of people, apparently tailors, were there with suits, waiting for Dexter’s fitting.
He was still dealing with business matters.
The leader was in a difficult position. “Mr. Russell, Ms. Olsen specifically instructed us to see you wear the suits. Please pick two for the wedding.”
Dexter glanced at him. “No need to try.”
The man was sweating profusely. “If you don’t try, I’m afraid we can’t report back to Ms. Olsen.”
Dexter took a call and hung up before saying, “Aren’t you afraid you won’t be able to satisfy me?”
The man was so anxious that he was about to get down on his knees. “I…”
Josie lowered her gaze, silently descending the stairs in her cotton slippers. “What’s all the fuss about?”
The group of people were taken aback to realize that there was still a woman present, but they didn’t express their surprise due to professional etiquette.
“Isn’t it just trying on clothes? Let’s get it done,” Josie said, her figure graceful as she walked toward the composed Dexter.
She took the suits from them and then lifted her hand to adjust the man’s hand to help him put them on. She even scrutinized him. “This color is too dark. Change it.”
She was about to take it off herself when Dexter grabbed her wrist.
“What are you doing?”
“Your fiancée sent the suits here. Of course, I have to take care of it for her.”
Josie curved her lips into a mocking smile, reaching to help him undress and change into another outfit.
“This one is good. It fits you well. It can be a backup.”
Bathed in sunlight, the man stood tall and noble in his wedding suit. Josie commented with interest, “Try another one.”
“Josie.” Dexter’s temple throbbed. Innocently, she said, “Do you want me to send the suits back? Ms. Olsen should be looking forward to seeing them.”
Dexter took off his clothes and tossed them aside. “Why are you upset?”
