Chapter 1150
The consequence of trying to be strong despite not being able to hold a child was that Alexander had to change his dressing as soon as he returned to the hospital room.
Alexander sighed as Elizabeth watched the nurse remove the blood-soaked gauze.
"You need to avoid straining yourself like that, okay? Although the location of your injury isn't critical, it's still on your shoulder, which is a place that requires a lot of movement. You need to take good care of it, or it might leave a lasting problem," the nurse advised before leaving.
Elizabeth watched the nurse leave, then looked at Alexander sitting on the bed, looking pitiful. She smiled.
She sat by the bed, tugged at Alexander's clothes, and gently touched the white bandage on his wound.
"Did you hear that? No straining yourself," Elizabeth said as she helped him straighten his hospital gown and buttoned it up slowly.
Alexander looked at Elizabeth, his gaze softening, "I didn't."
"Holding a child doesn't count as straining yourself?" Elizabeth looked up at him.
Alexander fell silent, then lowered his head. Her fingers were long and beautiful, occasionally brushing against his skin as she buttoned his shirt.
Alexander looked up, watching Elizabeth's tightly pressed lips, and inexplicably swallowed.
Elizabeth looked up just in time to see his throat move.
He awkwardly looked away.
Elizabeth squinted, "What are you doing?"
Alexander frowned, "What?"
Compared to Alexander's subtlety, Elizabeth seemed more straightforward. She smiled and asked, "Are you swallowing while staring at me? Mr. Tudor, do you want to make love to me?"
Alexander chuckled, not expecting Elizabeth to be so direct.
"The doctor said I shouldn't strain yourself," he replied.
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "So? You want to make love to me?"
He didn't directly answer her question, which meant he was avoiding it.
But Elizabeth insisted he face the question.
Alexander was silent for a few seconds.
He looked at Elizabeth's eyes, his gaze slowly falling to her lips.
Elizabeth squinted.
Alexander pursed his lips and slowly leaned closer to Elizabeth, placing his hand on her back and wrapping his arm around her slender waist.
Elizabeth looked into his eyes, her heart trembling slightly.
Alexander pulled her closer, "A kiss doesn't count as straining yourself, right?" His voice was a bit hoarse.
Elizabeth smiled at him, "What do you think?"
"You asked me. So, it doesn't count," he said, then kissed her lips.
His lips were warm, and the moment they touched, it felt like electricity coursed through his body. Elizabeth's eyelashes fluttered.
He said it would be just a kiss.
But his kiss became more intense, turning from gentle to hungry.
His apologies and love over the years deepened with each kiss.
Alexander pulled her into his arms repeatedly, and Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his back, surrendering to the passion between them.
The kiss grew deeper.
Their breathing became ragged.
Their bodies melted against each other.
She could feel his hand moving on her back, fingers searching for the clasp of her dress.
Elizabeth pulled back slightly, breathless. "You shouldn't overexert yourself, Alexander, remember what the doctor said?"
He lowered his head, his forehead resting against hers, his hot breath falling on her face, both of their faces slightly red.
"So I have to wait, right?"
Elizabeth nodded.
He understood that his so-called waiting wasn't for the wound to heal but for Elizabeth to be willing.
"How long do I have to wait?" he asked.
Elizabeth gently stroked his hair, "Until the day you marry me."
Alexander's eyelashes drooped slightly, "So when do you plan to marry me?"
"When the time is right, that's when I'll marry you," Elizabeth smiled.
Alexander sighed, raising his hand to pinch Elizabeth's face, "Are you still not over it?"
"I'm over it, honestly," Elizabeth smiled, mimicking his gesture and pinching his face, "Alexander, I've loved you for seven years, there's nothing I can't get over."
Alexander's heart trembled.
Seven years of loving him. She said it so matter-of-factly, with such serenity.
Yet those words cut through him like a knife. The weight of her seven years of devotion suddenly hit him full force.
He'd never truly understood what love meant before.
Now it was clear.
He found himself aching for all she had sacrificed, feeling the debt he owed her. This, he realized, was what love actually felt like.
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