Chapter 34
Harper certainly didn't take him seriously, responding with a reserved smile without uttering a word.
"Silence is consent, you know," Wesley quipped, resembling a fox more than a man. He was utterly oblivious to the lethal glare above.
Finished with his mischief and in high spirits, Wesley advised warmly, "Stay still now, little Harper."
Harper was quite obedient, although sweats were beading on her forehead, and her hands were trembling violently.
She truly couldn't face it alone.
Francis knew that as well.
Wesley couldn't stand idly by anymore, and smiling wryly at the man beside him oozing sympathy, he joked, "Come on, Harper's hubby, give her a hand."
To his surprise, Harper responded coolly, "No need, I got this."
Francis's smile fell. Crossing his arms, he stood steadfastly by her side.
Wesley gave Francis a knowing wink as if to say, "I did what I could."
As Wesley picked up the tool to start the delicate work, Harper's lips pressed tightly together, and her eyelids fluttered uncontrollably.
"If you can't watch, then don't," Francis suddenly said.
The next second, he pulled up a chair and sat down, authoritatively pressing Harper's head against his chest.
Harper was speechless.
She wanted to push him away, but her fear of needles clawed at her mind. After a brief struggle, she felt mild pain.
In a panic, she reached out, wrapping her arms around his lean waist.
"I thought you didn't need help?" came his teasing chuckle from above.
Caught off guard and blushing, Harper tried to retract her arms, but Francis held her tight.
His voice was deep and seductive when he instructed, "Hold on tight."
Their proximity made it all too easy for the imagination to run wild.
With her face buried in his chest, her blush unseen, Harper began to relax, comforted by Francis's steady and strong heartbeat.
Thump, thump.
That familiar heartbeat she'd heard for two years brought her instant peace.
The scent of his cologne, cold and refreshing, was inhaled greedily.
She closed her eyes, not thinking of what had happened before.
In this embrace, possibly for the last time, she held on even tighter.
Soon enough, Wesley announced, "All done."
Harper hurriedly stepped back, the flush on her cheeks lingering.
Wesley broke into laughter, "You guys didn't come here to remove the stitches, did you?"
Caught off guard, Harper heard him add, "It's like you're here to show off your love."
Wesley admired the lovebirds. They had been holding each other too tight, leaving Wesley feeling like a third wheel.
Before Harper could explain, Wesley teased again, "All right, go with the nurse to get disinfected."
Left in the room were two men.
One was smoldering with protectiveness, the other grinning ear to ear.
"Don't even think about pursuing her," Francis warned, his tone icy.
Wesley found it amusing, "Are you scared of me? Didn't you have a run-in with little Harper's 'Senior' the other day?"
Hearing the term "Senior" made Francis's brow twitch violently. He said coldly, "If you want to keep your tongue, I suggest you shut your mouth."
Wesley chuckled lightly, putting on a feigned expression of fear, "You're so fierce! But I'm surprised you stopped at one punch. That's not like you at all."
Despite Francis's usually cool and detached demeanor, he had every method to make the person who crossed him regret being born.
With a disdainful sneer, his eyes dark and brooding, Francis retorted, "He isn't worth the effort."
But he wouldn't admit that Harper's 'I'll hate you' had struck a nerve as a nail hammered deep into his chest. He instinctively refused to think about it.
Wesley's eyebrows arched teasingly, "Do I detect a hint of jealousy?"
Ignoring Francis's icy gaze, he pressed on, "Seems to me you're becoming less and less keen on getting a divorce."
"Not true," Francis countered firmly.
He simply hated the feeling of losing control of his emotions. That day's events burned in his chest, unresolved.
Figuring Francis was in denial, Wesley taunted inwardly, 'Stubborn to the bitter end, but you're going to suffer more.'
He offered a piece of unsolicited advice, "Jealousy can be a good thing—it means you care."
At that time, Harper returned.
Wesley presented Harper with a tube of ointment, saying affectionately, "Here, little Harper, this is a special remedy from my collection. It'll eliminate your scars and leave your hands looking lovely."
Harper accepted it gratefully, "Thank you, Wesley."
"Come on, not 'Wesley.' Let me hear a 'Wes,'" he teased, his eyes crinkling in amusement.
"Enough!" Before Harper could respond, Francis took her hand decisively and strode out, not looking back.
Undeterred, Wesley called after them, "Don't forget our deal, little Harper!"
Harper remained silent.
Francis moved quickly as if there were a virus at his heels, and Harper struggled to keep up with him.
At the door, Francis suddenly advised, "Don't listen to him."
She nodded.
"And he's just joking," he added.
"I know," Harper replied, aware enough to realize Wesley wasn't genuinely interested in her. Men like him from their circle wouldn't spare her a second glance.
Satisfied, Francis asked indifferently, "Where to? I'll give you a ride."
"No need to bother, I'll take a cab," Harper demurred.
Francis promptly opened the car door for her and stated, "Driving you is my task for the day."
Harper felt skeptical. 'Was he truly that obedient to Abigail's commands?
'So why wouldn't he listen when Abigail demanded him not to get a divorce?' she pondered.
"Could you give me a ride to the ancestral home?" she asked, a strange tension settling between them at the mention.
The significance of visiting the ancestral home wasn't lost on either of them.
Seizing the moment, Harper pressed on, "Do you have time to clear things up with Abigail now? We can sort out the divorce this afternoon."
Francis's eyes glinted with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "Fine."
At his word, Harper promptly climbed into the car, rather obedient.
Francis rolled up his sleeves and took the wheel. His fingers rested on it as the wind tousled his hair, casting a striking profile in the light.
Feeling Harper's gaze, Francis looked over and asked, "What are you looking at?"
The sunlight refracted through the windshield, making his eyes sparkle. For a moment, Harper thought that all the stars in the sky couldn't outshine the light in his eyes. Yet that light wasn't lit for her.
"Nothing," she denied emphatically.
Francis let out a cool chuckle and turned away. It was then that Chloe's call came through again.
This time, Francis didn't hang up, accepting the call and switching to speakerphone.
Chloe's voice, saccharine and whiny, filled the car, "Francis, why won't you answer my calls?"
"I'm driving."
"You scared me to death. I thought you didn't want me anymore. I've been crying, so heartbroken..." Her voice trailed into sobs.
Chloe's dramatics over the phone reached new levels, making Harper feel uncomfortable. It all seemed so fake, yet someone could tolerate it and even share it on speakerphone.
Francis, too, seemed to have had enough, but he wanted to catch Harper's reaction. 'Isn't it said that jealousy is the truest sign of affection? Why didn't she show even a hint of it?'
As Chloe's coquetry continued, she became increasingly bold. Harper could barely stand it. She feared what might be said next and gave a discreet cough to signal her presence.
Chloe gasped, "Francis, is someone there with you?"
Francis showed a smirk. He looked at Harper, who had intentionally made her presence known. 'Is she jealous?' he wondered.
"Yeah, Harper's here," he revealed.
"What?" Chloe exclaimed, caught off guard, obviously relieved she hadn't said anything more incriminating.
"What are you two up to?" she asked, her voice edged with suspicion.
"We're on our way to get a divorce," Harper pitched in unexpectedly.
Her interjection took aback Francis, and his eyes turned icy.
On the other end, Chloe sounded ecstatic. "Francis, is it true? I'm so happy. All of a sudden, I don't feel any pain at all!"
"We'll talk later," Francis ended the call, simmering in the sudden shift of atmosphere.
Francis abruptly ended the call and shot a cool glance at Harper. "Did I ask you to speak?"
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