Chapter 129 Don't Want to Touch You
Her pregnancy had rendered her body delicate, too frail to withstand any form of harsh treatment. There were numerous ways she could assist him; it didn't have to be in that particular manner.
Alexander's thin lips slightly parted as he released a warm breath. The woman's hesitant and reluctant demeanor transformed the fiery gleam in his eyes into a darker hue.
'Does she truly abhor this to such an extent? So resistant to the idea.
In the end, she still doesn't desire to be intimate with him!' Alexander mused, a surge of anger bubbling within him.
"There's no need. I don't wish to touch you!"
'Since she doesn't desire my touch, why should I make a fool of myself and risk her feeling wronged later? If I were to make her cry, I would just appear brutish.' Alexander pondered.
Upon hearing the words "I don't want to touch you," Ava was momentarily stunned before a sensation akin to being doused with a bucket of ice water washed over her. The bone-chilling cold made the coolness of her earlier fall into a freezing bathtub seem insignificant.
Her face paled as she lifted her gaze to meet his, astonishment etched on her features.
Just moments ago, the man had seemed impatient, yet now he casually declared his disinterest in touching her. His gaze was filled with aversion, as if she was beneath his consideration.
In a fluster, Ava wrapped herself with the blanket once more, a wave of mortifying shame washing over her. It felt as if she was throwing herself at a man who couldn't care less, a notion that was utterly ludicrous.
"Alexander, it was you who pressed me against the door and kissed me, asserting that we were still husband and wife, that you wished to fulfill our marital duties. And now, when I’m willing, you turn disdainful," she tightened her grip on the blanket, her words seeping through gritted teeth, "Sometimes I truly don't know if the problem lies with me or you, or perhaps both of us are at fault?"
"You didn't want me to touch you, correct?" Alexander stood rigidly by the bed, his hands clenched into fists, "You pushed me away. Now that I’m not touching you, isn't that what you desired? You explicitly asked not to proceed. After all your rejections, why should I persist?"
Observing the woman's aggrieved expression momentarily made him question if he was to blame. However, upon reflection, it was her reluctance that had ignited this predicament.
Help him in any other way, just not that, she even uttered such words. How could he possibly proceed?
Why is he suddenly at fault?
Does she comprehend the extent of his restraint?
"I..." Ava was filled with unvoiced grievances, but she found herself unable to articulate them, unable to explain to him.
If she weren't pregnant, if it weren't for this precarious moment, she wouldn't have rejected his touch.
Ava's head hung low as tears betrayed her emotions, cascading down her cheeks one after the other.
She clutched the comforter, forgoing her robe, and slid directly under the sheets to lie down.
Alexander's gaze fell upon the frustrated woman on the bed, a sudden irritation overwhelming him. He wasn't annoyed with her—he was merely upset that the situation had become so convoluted, throwing his thoughts into disarray.
The sound of Alexander's retreating footsteps reached Ava, and then she saw him, fully dressed and seemingly ready to depart.
He headed straight for the door.
Ava asked hastily, “Where are you going?”
'Why is he leaving at this late hour?'
“I'm leaving. Try to get some rest,” he replied, his hand on the doorknob, poised to exit.
Staying any longer would be a mistake—he wasn’t sure what he might do. It was better to leave.
“Wait,” Ava called out to him.
“Is there something else?” Alexander inquired, turning around.
“If you leave now, we won't be able to sort out that document. We'll be stuck tomorrow, unable to proceed with the divorce.”
