Chapter 490
"Sorry," Natalie coughed, knowing she was at fault. "My cycle got delayed this month... I forgot too... Maybe you should go to the bathroom and... clean up a bit?"
Oliver took a deep breath, never expecting that their unexpected turn would come because of this!
Circling the foot of the bed to her side, he lifted the covers, hoisting her up so she could hold onto her legs, and carried her to the bathroom.
In the moment she was lifted, Natalie’s eyes darted to the bed, her cheeks flaming when she saw the large stain on the sheets.
"Wait here," Oliver commanded tersely before stepping out of the bathroom.
Natalie heard him phoning the staff, requesting a fresh set of sheets be brought up. A minute passed before Oliver reentered with an armful of clothing articles such as her underwear, a clean nightgown, and several options of sanitary napkins, which he placed on the nearby stand.
"Oliver, why don't you use the other bathroom to clean up?" The bathroom light was stark, revealing too much clarity—Natalie's gaze fell on Oliver's pants, and her embarrassment deepened.
Without a word and wearing a palpable frown, Oliver ran the hot water, soaked her towel, and then started to help Natalie out of her pants.
"Hey!" Natalie pushed against him. She found it awkward having him help with her pants, especially under these circumstances.
"Natalie, don't move. I’m not in the mood!" Oliver said through his clenched teeth.
"I can do it myself," she insisted.
"Bullshit!" He was genuinely angry.
Natalie clenched her fists, feeling a deep sadness.
"Oliver, don't you think this is all a bit pointless?" she asked lightly.
"Speak plainly."
When angry, Oliver was domineering, as evident now while he helped her clean and threw the soiled pants aside before gently wiping her down with the warm towel, unbothered by the metallic scent of blood that filled the air.
"Oliver, we're getting a divorce. You don't have to do this," she murmured.
"There's no need to keep reminding me of the divorce," he snapped, surprisingly gentle with his touch.
Leaning against the wall, Natalie stared blankly at the ceiling, feeling a sense of helplessness and turmoil. The new sheets perfectly matched the old ones as if nothing had changed as if it had all been a dream.
Once he settled Natalie in bed, Oliver went to clean himself up. Left alone, she continued to stare at the ceiling, replaying the scenes in her head until it all faded to white.
Time seemed to freeze until Oliver, having taken a fresh shower, returned. The instant he reopened the bathroom door, Natalie shut her eyes quickly.
He glanced at her before dimming the bedside lamp and quietly joining her in bed, cautiously inching closer.
"Stay back," Natalie warned. "You might get... dirty again."
Navigating the complex emotions of their intimacy and their impending separation, they lay together in the quiet darkness, each absorbed in their thoughts.
Oliver emitted an ambiguous chuckle, "Done pretending to be asleep?"
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