Chapter 668 Relax, It's Not Poisoned!
While selecting clothes, Oliver would constantly envisage Natalie's features in his mind, speculating if she had lost weight and where, wondering if adjustments to the size of the clothing were needed.
When Natalie closely examined these new clothes, she noticed several items she had once longed for but had restrained herself from buying. Suspicious, Natalie glanced several times at Oliver.
"What's up?" he asked casually, leaning against the wardrobe door.
"I really liked these before," Natalie said, pointing to a creatively patched shirt. "How did you... buy this one?"
Mr. Windsor wasn't exactly known for being hip, and this type of creative patchwork wasn't his aesthetic style.
With a slight smile, Oliver beckoned Natalie with his finger. "Come here. I'll tell you if you come over."
"It's so mysterious..." Natalie muttered to herself.
But as soon as she stepped closer, before she could even steady herself, Oliver had her pinned against the wardrobe door, kissing her passionately.
"What the...!" Natalie was completely dazed by his kiss.
"What's the matter, dumbfounded?" Oliver released her lips and chuckled, playfully patting her cheek before giving it a few gentle squeezes.
"But you haven't explained," Natalie persisted, still feeling it odd that he'd choose such a style.
"Don't like it?" Oliver asked in a low voice, still leaning close, occasionally pecking her tender lips.
Natalie shook her head, "No, it's not that. I like them."
Oliver said nonchalantly, "Well, there you go. We are in sync; I knew you liked them, so I got them."
Natalie huffed, not quite buying his reasoning but failing to think of a better explanation, so she decided to play along.
Grabbing a nightgown, Natalie went to the bathroom to freshen up. Oliver stood in front of the creatively patched shirt, his eyes reflecting a soft hue. He had ordered this piece three months ago during a rough patch with Natalie.
On a day when she wandered the streets aimlessly wearing a baseball cap, Oliver had followed her discreetly. He noticed how she had paused for several minutes in front of a large LED screen displaying this outfit, unable to look away.
After returning home, he decided on purchasing that unattractive shirt. Surprisingly, the shirt was a limited edition, with orders placed way in advance and a two-month production timeline—it was just incomprehensible!
His closet housed a few more fashion faux pas. All acquired upon realizing a certain pattern. For instance, the oversized coat on the left side of the closet, he had discovered it while sneaking into Natalie's apartment, and happened to notice a fashion magazine on her table.
The magazine seemed barely touched, except for a well-thumbed page featuring that very coat. By then, the coat was already sold out, and he had to buy it at a steep price from someone. Luckily, it was now summer, and there was no chance Natalie would wear that hideous coat!
"Knock, knock, knock!"
The rhythm of the knocking was unmistakable—it had to be Marjorie. Oliver opened the door, and sure enough, there she was.
"Oliver, here. Bedtime milk for your wife," Marjorie said, clad in a pale blue loungewear, elegantly holding a cloisonné cup with what she believed to be a warm and friendly smile.
Oliver squinted, "Grandma, you might not be aware."
Marjorie arched an eyebrow, "Hmm?"
"There have only been two occasions when you smile at me like that; you do it when you want a favor or when you're up to some mischief," he said bluntly.
Marjorie almost ran out of breath, irritated, but then she thought about it and realized her grandson was spot on, making her wonder, "Is it really that obvious?"
Perhaps she should create some deceiving actions in the future to throw people off?
"Anyway, take it. I prepared it for my granddaughter-in-law, not for you," Marjorie asserted as she handed Oliver the milk, satisfied with herself and ready to leave. However, she turned back with a warning, "Make sure your wife drinks it. It was personally brought by me. Refusing it would be a great disrespect!"
Oliver looked wearily at Marjorie, questioning, "Do you really deserve respect, behaving like this?"
She was clearly not setting the best example.
"Hey!" Marjorie glared at him, her mind racing with thoughts, then assured him, "Don't worry, it's not poisoned! I've heard drinking milk helps you grow," the old lady lifted her chest with a mischievous tilt to her voice, looking at Oliver, "You get it?"
Oliver, speechless, rubbed his temple.
His fingertips brushed against the fine bone china, feeling the warmth of the milk inside. He looked around and saw nothing amiss.
Natalie stepped out of the bathroom to be greeted with a glass of pure milk.
Natalie was puzzled.
"Grandma brought it," Oliver explained.
Natalie had never been particularly fond of drinking plain milk, mainly because her sensitive taste buds picked up a hint of a gamey flavor, but she felt obligated to drink it since it was brought to her by an elder.
Thankfully, she didn't have a strong aversion to milk.
As Natalie sipped the milk gingerly, pondering why Mrs. Windsor suddenly seemed to favor her, she overheard Oliver make a remark, "The old lady said it's good for you."
‘Pfft—' She couldn't hold back; the milk sprayed out of her mouth. Oliver was drenched all over from his chest, neck, and face all splattered.
Natalie was speechless.
Oliver, with a frosty look, stared at Natalie. He was fastidious about cleanliness, and while he didn’t disdain Natalie’s saliva, being spritzed with milk like this was another story.
"It's not my fault, you shouldn’t say such things when I'm drinking," Natalie quickly set down her glass and reached for a paper towel to wipe Oliver off.
"So, you're blaming me then?" Oliver asked with a scowl and a raised eyebrow.
In her mind, Natalie thought, Of course, it's your fault for making such a comment. But seeing Oliver's expression, she dared not speak her mind for fear of being reprimanded.
"It's definitely not my fault." Not wanting to sell herself short either, she muttered under her breath, "It's not my fault. As for who's to blame, well, that's for you to figure out. I never said it was you."
Her evasive tactics left Oliver trying not to laugh. Catching a glimpse of the milk jug on the table, he had an idea.
He took a gulp of milk, caught Natalie off guard by tilting her chin up, and poured the milk from his mouth into hers.
Natalie was taken aback by his sudden bold move, but Oliver’s technique was such that, despite her initial resistance, she ended up swallowing all of it.
After the milk was gone, Oliver playfully nibbled her lips.
"I'm going to take a shower. Have the maid pick up the glass after you’re done," said Oliver, patting her cheek contentedly, looking at Natalie's blend of confusion and mild indignation.
It wasn't until the bathroom door closed behind Oliver that Natalie snapped back to reality.
She glanced at the milk that had been forced upon her and suddenly felt queasy. With every sip, she would be reminded of that moment with Oliver, and yet, since Mrs. Windsor had personally given her the milk, not drinking it would mean having to pour it out discreetly to avoid any suspicion of disdain toward Mrs. Windsor.
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