Chapter 181 A Portrait of Pity and Charm
Alexander leaned against the wall, every sinew in his body taut with tension. Ava was close enough to sense the raw power radiating from him. He didn't seem weak in the slightest, yet, inexplicably, Ava found herself accepting his words as truth.
His gaze traced the blush that bloomed across her face, now veiled by a thin mist of steam. She appeared more fragile, more enchanting than ever before, her allure impossible to resist.
Ava had a delicate air about her, but beneath that, he knew, lay a heart of gold. This explained why she kept forgiving him for his transgressions, time and time again.
At the tender age of twenty-one, Ava was in the prime of her life, a period that should have been brimming with joy. Yet, she spent a significant portion of it nursing a broken heart, all because of him.
At times, he couldn't help but feel like a scoundrel.
After bathing Alexander, Ava’s face was so flushed it looked as if it might bleed. She dried his body, blow-dried his hair, helped him into his pajamas, and guided him into bed.
The entire routine was reminiscent of caring for a child.
Lying in bed, Alexander watched in silence as she bustled about, tending to his needs.
Ava placed a glass of water by his bedside. "You should sleep first."
"What about you?" He clung to her hand, much like a sick child would to his mother, unwilling to let her go.
Ava smiled tenderly, her eyes radiating love as she reassured him, "I'm going to take a shower, then I'll be right back. You sleep now."
Alexander obediently nodded and closed his eyes.
A sense of maternal fulfillment washed over Ava as she walked away from the bed and into the bathroom.
No sooner had she entered than Alexander's eyes snapped open. He pulled down the covers, his body aflame.
After Ava had showered and returned in her pajamas, she found the man in bed seemingly sound asleep.
She sat at the edge of the bed, watching him for a long time before finally sliding under the covers alongside him.
Just as she reached to turn off the lamp, Alexander turned towards her, pulling her into his arms and holding her tight. His voice was husky and seductive, "You smell so good."
Ava's cheeks flushed. "You're still awake?"
She had assumed he had fallen asleep.
Alexander merely hummed in response, "Couldn't sleep, waiting for you, you smell good."
"But you smell the same, don’t you?" They used the same brand of body wash, carrying a light jasmine fragrance.
Alexander hugged her even tighter, burying his head in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. "You smell better than me."
Ava couldn’t help but chuckle. This man, even in the most trivial matters, always insisted on making her the victor.
"Fine, I smell good, but let's sleep now. The doctor said you need to rest early."
"Ava, please don't be mad at me, okay?" His voice was low and pitiful against her shoulder, like a child seeking forgiveness.
"Why would I be mad at you for no reason?" At that moment, she was too preoccupied with feeling sorry for him.
His vulnerability shattered her heart. The memory of how he had taken a hit for her earlier that day melted her heart, leaving her incapable of holding a grudge against him.
"Because I'm not doing well, I'm not a good husband. I always make you angry and sad. I'm truly awful."
Ava stroked his hair gently, saying, "Alex, nobody's perfect. You have your faults, but you're willing to protect me, to apologize, and to make things right. That's what matters."
Alexander frowned slightly; the young lady really did treat him like a child. But it was fine, as long as she wasn't mad at him. She could treat him like an embryo for all he cared.
He found himself pondering, if he and Ava were to have a child, that child would undoubtedly be beautiful.
