Chapter 233: Misunderstanding

I bit my lip, eyes blazing like I was ready to take on the world, showing I meant business.

"Alright, alright, chill out. Put your hand down. You think you're some kind of mob boss? A bloody battle? With how much your partner babies you, even a paper cut would freak him out." Mia pushed my hand down, got out of bed all clumsy-like, and turned off the light for me.

I wondered if Mia hadn't been eating right lately; even getting out of bed seemed like a struggle for her.

Guess I’d have to chat with Yancy tomorrow and get some good grub to fatten her up.

I pulled out my phone and checked it again. Brad's message was just sitting there in the chat. After a moment, I replied: [Come back soon, I miss you so much I can't sleep.] Threw in some crying, kissing, and hugging emojis for good measure.

Honestly, I trusted Brad, but the idea of him on a trip with Jenny? Nah, that didn’t sit right. Just picturing him pushing her wheelchair and spending time with her made my skin crawl.

Duty was duty, but jealousy? That was a whole different beast. And when they clashed, jealousy usually won.

After sending the message, I tossed my phone aside and tried to sleep, but then it pinged again.

I grabbed it, and yep, it was Brad. [Do you want me to hug you or kiss you? Sweetheart, wait for me. I'll give you whatever you want when I get back, including myself.]

He sent a pic of himself with wet hair, water droplets sliding down his chest in the dim light, looking all wild and sexy. Brad’s hotness was seriously tempting.

I bit my finger, wanting to touch his firm chest.

Naughty Brad, always teasing me.

Sending stuff like that late at night, how was I supposed to sleep?

If I couldn’t sleep, neither should he.

I cheekily replied: [Brad, how old are you this year? Thirty, right? Keep up the exercise.]

Brad shot back a voice message: [Sweetheart, you calling me old? Just wait till I get back and show you what I can do in bed.]

I tossed my phone aside, turned over, and buried my face in the pillow, laughing with a blushed face. The earlier annoyance melted away.

Life’s a long road, and problems are bound to pop up; we just gotta deal with them. No matter how tough or bitter it gets, it’s all good as long as the person beside me stays the same.

With Brad by my side, as long as he held my hand, I wasn’t scared of anything.

[Who can’t brag?] I fearlessly added. He was so far away, no way he could just pop up in front of me.

[Sweetheart, doubting my skills in bed? How about we make love in our dreams first?]

We chatted till it was super late. I was so tired I crashed right after turning off my phone.

And guess what? I dreamed about him all night.

A round bed covered in rose petals, the smell of champagne, curtains swaying in the breeze, flickering candlelight. The intoxicating scent of pine, a tall and strong physique, full and wild lines, the deep affection exclusive to lovers, and kisses so sweet they made me dizzy.

In my dreams, we made love all night. When the birds woke me in the morning, my face was still burning, and my heart was racing.

Brad said to make love in dreams, and we really did it all night in the dream, leaving me exhausted, my throat hoarse.

If this were real, I didn't dare to think about it. Time to get up.

My phone notification went off.

No surprise, the message was from Brad. It was a selfie of him in the bathroom, he looked at the camera, his eyes filled with grievance and satisfaction. His face blushed, looking so shy.

Thirty-year-old Brad still playing the shy boy, this trait didn't match his overall demeanor.

I was puzzled by his early morning look when another message from Brad came in: [Guess what I'm doing?]

"Um, washing yourself with a cold shower?" I followed the romance novel trope, making a guess, and waited for his answer.

"Yes, I'm washing, but not a cold shower, my underwear." The message ended with a fiery emoji.

What was so embarrassing about washing underwear? Brad was getting more and more pretentious.

"Guess why I'm washing my underwear?"

This time, I guessed a bit more seriously. But after thinking for a minute, I still couldn't figure it out. Did something that needed to be washed daily really needed a reason for me to guess?

"Because it's dirty."

"Strictly speaking, yes, it's dirty. And I changed three pairs in one night. Wet and cold, no one to care for me, so I had to get up and wash them myself."

Three pairs of dirty underwear in one night? Oh my, did Brad get some bad food ?

I was so worried that I sent Brad a video call invitation while still brushing my teeth.

Brad was still in the bathroom, his phone placed somewhere level with his face, and I could vaguely see him scrubbing something.

"Sweetheart, did you dream about me?" Brad smiled cheekily.

Whose husband were you, with such thick skin?

"I did, Brad. So, does your stomach still hurt? Do you need to buy some medicine?"

Brad glanced at me, his hands not stopping. "My stomach doesn't hurt, just feels a bit empty."

"Empty?" I said, puzzled. "Why? Are you dehydrated?"

Brad paused for a moment, quickly understanding my meaning. His previously cheeky face turned serious, looking like he wanted to chew me up and swallow me.

Just as I was thinking about what to say next, he spoke angrily, "I don't have diarrhea."

"Then how did your underwear get dirty several times in one night? Isn't it incontinence?" Considering Brad's dignity, I didn't dare to be too blunt. Incontinence in an adult, for any reason, is quite embarrassing. I had to give him some face.

Carefully speaking out my guess, I saw his face grow more serious, not just serious but also very cold.

His gaze was filled with aggression.

My intuition told me I had made a big mistake, a mistake that could damage a man's pride.

"You said it got dirty three times." I didn't dare look at his angry eyes, so I swallowed hard and bravely continued, "I'm just concerned about you. Incontinence isn't something to be ashamed of. If you're sick, you should get treated."

The more I spoke, the colder Brad's gaze became, and the less confident I felt.

"Jane." Brad suddenly raised his voice, exploding with anger, "Fuck! You fool, listen carefully, I don't have diarrhea. I was just so excited because I missed you so much. Can you think of something good about me?"

This was the first time he said bad words.

Suddenly, I understood.

So that was what it was!

This misunderstanding was so embarrassing.

Lost Love:She Fell for His Brother
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