Chapter 522 Washing Up
Charles snapped back to reality and obediently closed his eyes, though his trembling eyelashes betrayed his feigned sleep.
Diana chose not to call him out on it; as long as he didn't bombard her with questions, she was fine.
After a moment, she pulled out her phone and started arranging Nolan's work schedule for the next day.
The only sound in the room was the faint tapping of her fingers on the screen, barely noticeable.
"What kind of person am I?"
Charles suddenly asked from the bed, "The person I am now."
Diana paused, then replied, "Smart, stubborn, domineering, cold..."
She hadn't finished when Charles interrupted, "Is 'smart' the only good thing about me?"
In the darkness, Diana chuckled. His thoughts were indeed youthful, unable to hide his emotions.
Hearing her laugh, Charles felt a bit embarrassed. Before he could say anything, she continued, "You're not completely without good qualities. Sometimes, you're quite kind and brave."
Charles couldn't believe he had become such a person.
At seventeen, he wasn't cold-hearted. He was just too silent, building walls around his heart to keep everyone out.
What had turned him into this?
Too much information overwhelmed Charles's mind. He lay back on the pillow, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. Diana tucked him in, treating him like a child.
"Sleep," she said softly, "I'm right here."
Charles closed his eyes but couldn't sleep. Too many questions swirled in his mind.
Who wanted to kill him? Why? What had he forgotten over the past decade? Could he really trust Diana?
Outside, a full moon hung in the night sky, its cold light filtering through the curtains and onto the bed.
Charles turned his head to look at Diana, curled up in the chair beside him. Her eyelashes cast tiny shadows in the moonlight, her chest rising and falling with her steady breaths.
For some reason, he felt a sense of peace. No matter the truth, at least he wasn't alone right now.
Early the next morning, Diana was awakened by the nurse making rounds.
Her arm had gone numb, and she rubbed it for a while to get the feeling back.
The nurse took Charles's temperature, confirmed he didn't have a fever, and then hooked him up to an IV.
Before leaving, the nurse advised Diana, "This IV fluid is cold. If the patient feels chilly, you can warm his hand with some hot water. The doctor will be here soon for further examination."
Diana nodded and smiled as the nurse left.
Charles was still asleep. Diana looked at his face in the morning light, feeling a bit lost.
Charles had just survived a life-threatening situation, and he had lost a lot of weight.
His face, which usually didn't show his age, now looked worn with long hair and stubble. He could easily be mistaken for a homeless man if he sat by the roadside.
And inside this body was the soul of seventeen-year-old Charles.
Seventeen, a young man's teenage years.
Diana recalled his behavior last night. Despite his face showing emotions, he still tried to stay calm in difficult situations. No wonder he later managed the Percy Group.
Why did he have to lose his memory now?
Diana yawned as she thought about it. It was still early, so she leaned on the bed, resting her chin on her hand to take a nap.
Sleeping like this wasn't comfortable. Diana swayed, half-asleep.
Suddenly, a hand supported her head just as she was about to fall. Diana woke up abruptly, her eyes meeting Charles's.
It took her a moment to react. She quickly pulled away and cleared her throat, "You're awake."
Charles saw the red veins in her eyes and felt touched. He spoke up, "Come sleep on the bed. I'll make some room for you."
Diana was slightly taken aback and cleared her throat, "No, you have a gunshot wound and blood clots in your brain. You need to rest well. I'll catch up on sleep at home later."
Seeing she was firm, Charles didn't insist. He lowered his eyelashes, looking compliant, a stark contrast to his usual decisive demeanor.
Diana couldn't help but press her lips together and got up to wash up. She also brought a basin of water for Charles.
He usually had a caregiver, so despite lying in bed for a long time, he didn't have any odor.
But his hair was too long, and he had grown a beard, making him look a bit shabby.
Even without a mirror, Charles knew he looked disheveled. He didn't want Diana to see him like this, so when she brought the water over, he turned his head away.
He thought to himself, 'If I can't see her, she can't see me.'
Diana didn't notice his thoughts. She placed the basin where he was looking, "Wash your face. You rolled on the ground yesterday and didn't get cleaned up in time."
She dipped her hands into the water and wrung out a towel.
As she handed it to Charles, he took it with his good hand. Their fingers brushed briefly, and he felt her hand was soft and smooth.
That soft touch made him grip the towel tightly. He rubbed his face haphazardly and handed it back, "Thanks. You don't have to do this. Let the caregiver handle it."
His face was red from scrubbing, and Diana didn't know what he was thinking. She took the towel, dipped it in water, and wrung it out again, "You're a patient. I'm here, so helping out is no big deal."
She wasn't heartless enough to let him fend for himself with his injuries.
Charles wanted to take the towel again, but she dodged him, "Take off your clothes."
Diana ordered.
Charles's ears turned red, and he clutched his collar like a virtuous maiden, "No need, I'll do it myself."
His body was frail, with protruding ribs, not a pleasant sight.
Diana frowned. Who used to be the one always acting shamelessly?
Now, just wiping his body, he acted like she was a villain forcing herself on an innocent boy.
She suddenly felt playful and grinned, "You have one hand. You can't manage everything. Let me help. We're married, after all. We've done everything a couple does. You wouldn't deny our relationship just because you lost your memory, right?"
Charles's face flushed, his blood rushing, "No."
He paused for a moment, then added, "I'm not denying our relationship. I just want to do it myself."
He could wait for the caregiver. Why was he letting Diana tease him like this?
"The caregiver won't be here until noon. Nolan will be here soon. Do you want him to see you like this? You're his boss, and he always sees you as strong and imposing."
Diana moved closer, tugging at his clothes.
The hospital gown was loose, and soon his chest was exposed, showing various scars.
Charles felt like a lamb to the slaughter, only able to make weak sounds.
Realizing this, Charles suddenly stopped struggling. He let go and lay straight, allowing the towel to move over his body.
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