Chapter 219: Jerry, You're Better Than a Dog
Elissa curiously leaned over. "What's up? Who's the message from?"
I turned off the screen. "Jerry."
Elissa pouted, "Him? What's he want now? Wasn’t he snarky enough at the restaurant tonight? Think he needs an encore?"
I hesitated. "No, his leg hurts. Probably an old injury from the explosion. I need to go check on him."
Elissa glared at me. "Didn't you just vow to put friendship first over love? And now you're ditching me?"
I began massaging her shoulders eagerly. "Elissa, how could I ever put love over our friendship? I'll be right back, I promise. What do you want to eat? I'll bring you a late-night snack."
Elissa sighed, though a hint of amusement tugged at her lips. "And what about his supposed girlfriend? Why does he need you?"
I waved it off. "That’s not his girlfriend; she’s his cousin."
“Fine, go on then." Elissa pushed me towards the door, a relieved smile breaking through.
When I arrived at Jagquar One, the security guard halted me. "Sorry, miss. New rule from the property management—no outside vehicles allowed in," he explained.I quickly dialed Jerry's number, but there was no answer. Reluctantly, I parked on the street, borrowed an umbrella from the guard, and made my way through the rain. By the time I reached the building, my high heels were soaked and my dress clung uncomfortably to my legs.
Even though it was summer, the cold elevator air sent a shiver through me.
Standing at Jerry's door, I pressed the doorbell. After a moment, the door swung open. Jerry was there, in a wheelchair, wearing a black T-shirt and olive cargo shorts. Under the bright lights, his eyes looked tired, his voice faint as he greeted me. “Mrs. Valence, coming to a man’s apartment late at night, won’t that be hard to explain when you go back?”
I was slightly stunned. "Didn't you send me a message?"
"I sent you a message?" Jerry laughed coldly, as if he'd heard a joke. "Do you still think it's two years ago when I was at your beck and call?"
I lowered my eyes. "Well, let’s just say the app had a bug."
After a brief pause, I looked up at him. "If your leg hurts—"
Jerry cut me off sharply. "Don't worry. Even if it hurts like hell, I don't need someone else’s wife to take care of me."
I swallowed hard. "Well, if your leg hurts, just massage it yourself. I’ll be going now."
As I turned to leave, his expression grew harsher. He was about to shut the door when he noticed my soaked appearance. Frowning, he muttered, “Come in and change your clothes. If you catch a cold, Mr. Valence will have my head.”
I refused, "It's okay..."
“Hope Royston,” Jerry interrupted, a rare assertiveness in his tone. “Are you so used to me coddling you that you can't listen for once?”
I clenched my hands but said nothing. As he maneuvered his wheelchair to make way, I walked in, still dripping from the rain.
Jerry watched me from a distance, his face cold and unreadable. "You can find clothes in Sophia's room. Pick any; she won't mind," he added. "The bathroom has clean towels."
"Okay. Got it." I nodded, remembering the layout of his place: his master bedroom, the study where I once broke a money box, the gaming room, and two guest rooms, one for Avery and one for Sophia.
I didn't deliberate too much and chose a dark green slip dress from Sophia's wardrobe before heading to the bathroom to change. With my wet clothes in hand, I stepped out and saw Jerry in the study, bent over his laptop.
Standing at the door, I hesitated before speaking. "Tell Sophia I borrowed her clothes. I’ll wash them and return them later."
Jerry didn't even glance at me, just gave a faint "Okay."
I whispered, "I'm leaving now. Sorry to bother you."
Just as I turned to leave, I noticed him bending down to rub his calf, clearly struggling as if his legs couldn't support his weight.
I stepped into the room. "Let me handle that for you. I've picked up some massage techniques over the past couple of years. I'm quite good at it. Want to give it a shot?"
It was quite a coincidence. After moving to Fantasia Federation, the elderly lady next door, skilled in medicine and exceptional with her massage techniques, treated me well and often shared her homemade food. Once, noticing my neck discomfort, she massaged it, and the relief was immediate. She even had offered to teach me.
Jerry sneered, mocking, "I see you have been a dutiful wife for your husband these years."
Ignoring his tone, I squatted down, placed my hands on his calf muscles, and began massaging, carefully adjusting my technique and pressure.
Two years of learning, and I had never expected to put it to use like this.
As I worked, I cautiously asked, "What did the doctor say about your leg? Is there a chance you'll be able to stand again?"
"Stand up?" Jerry looked momentarily taken aback, then deftly changed the subject. "Your technique is impressive. You must have practiced a lot."
Seeing he didn't want to talk about it, I took it as a tacit agreement and didn't press further, following his lead. "I've only practiced on Coco."
Jerry raised an eyebrow, "Coco?"
"Yes." I nodded, looking up at him with a smile. "My dog. He's very patient. When I massage him, he never bites."
Jerry narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Are you comparing me to a dog?"
I chuckled softly. "No, you're much better than a dog."
He seemed to struggle with a mix of emotions before finally breaking into a wry smile. "Hope Royston, do you talk to Christopher like this too?"
I lowered my eyes, my fingers pressing firmly on his leg, repeating, "I divorced him. Jerry, I divorced him."
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