Chapter 413 Persistent High Fever, Helplessly Feeding Water
No one outside knew that Damian, with his stunning looks and top-tier family background, suffered from severe mental illness.
The condition first appeared when he was eight years old, when he accidentally witnessed his parents arguing.
Through the floor-to-ceiling window, he saw his father with a contorted face and his fierce mother, both completely shedding their usual noble demeanor, fighting like beasts. In a fit of rage, his father smashed several porcelain items, while his mother, disheveled, cursed and fought back.
That day, he learned that his father had women outside, more than one.
He couldn't bear to see his father, known for his elegance, showing such a terrifying side, and he was also extremely afraid of his usually graceful and dignified mother's contorted face.
As a child, he saw through human hypocrisy and came to hate marriage. Beneath the facade of a glamorous marriage, once the veil was lifted, it was filled with filth.
So-called spouses were just enemies deceiving each other!
The ones most deceived were often the closest ones, the ones sharing the same bed.
Seeing his mother's tears of collapse, he was utterly despairing.
He squatted outside the door, vomiting uncontrollably until he was exhausted and had a high fever that wouldn't go away.
From then on, his temper became extremely volatile, prone to outbursts and loss of control.
Later, the doctor said he had manic disorder, and once his anger was triggered, it was uncontrollable.
He hired the top international psychologist, Louis, and established this top-tier private clinic in the country.
Over the years, he gradually learned ways to control himself, becoming calm and resilient, with almost no one able to shake his emotions.
Bit by bit, he sculpted himself into the cold person he was today.
Because of this, he never attended public events, fearing an outburst in public.
Later, he indeed managed to stay calm and composed, showing no joy or sorrow, possessing a maturity far beyond his age.
The next relapse happened after meeting Ashley. In that absurd marriage, he was deceived and used, repeatedly falling into emotional turmoil, like a person sinking into quicksand, trying to climb out but being pulled back into the abyss by the shifting sands.
He was torn apart by hatred, unable to control himself, with the illness like invisible steel wires, imprisoning him tightly, driving him mad.
Even after completely driving Ashley out of the house and severing ties, he couldn't heal the massive wound.
He thought he would get better after the divorce, but he didn't.
Even with Ashley completely out of his world, the hidden illness deeply embedded in his bones still kept him awake all night.
Moreover, he developed severe insomnia and depression.
If it weren't for his strong inner support, even the doctors wouldn't know how long Damian could hold on.
Fortunately, he had willpower far beyond ordinary people, and the frequency of his episodes over the years was not high.
In the past three years, Louis recorded his episodes repeatedly and came to a shocking conclusion: it was his ex-wife.
"Damian?"
Damian finished his cigarette and said slowly, "I want it all."
He wanted to be cured, and he wanted Ashley.
He wouldn't love her with his illness, nor would he let go of her hand.
Louis said worriedly, "But we've tried so many ways, and none of them can help you return to your state before marrying her. Your emotions are too easily influenced by her."
Damian said, "I didn't love her before. The episodes might have been due to my lack of control."
"But you care about her! The one who can influence you is, of course, the one you care about! Maybe you didn't love her before, but now? You've already fallen in love with her, making you more susceptible to her influence. You might lose control and even have violent tendencies."
Damian extinguished his cigarette and said irritably, "Give me some medication."
Louis scratched his head in frustration, "You will hurt her and yourself, Damian. You must think clearly. This is not a threat but a truth proven countless times over the past three years. Look at you now, drenched in sweat. Is this you?"
Damian didn't want to continue the conversation, "Find a way to develop new medication."
The next day, Ashley was in a daze for most of the day and only remembered to call Theo in the afternoon.
But Theo said he had gone to Seacity temporarily.
She had to wait for him to return to make an appointment.
Finally, after a long wait, it was time to get off work.
Ashley went home first, took a long, long shower, applied body wash several times, and scrubbed her body hard, almost rubbing her skin raw.
Then she put on a set of close-fitting underwear and a long dress over it.
In the mirror, her figure was beautifully wrapped, but her face was pale and bloodless.
At 8:30, she sat in the car, mechanically driving to Imperial Residence.
They had already done everything a couple could do, so why be pretentious?
Just turn off the lights, close your eyes...
She pressed the elevator button and went upstairs.
All her actions were driven by inertia, like a machine without emotions.
She rang the doorbell twice, but no one answered.
She rang it again, but still, no one responded.
Ashley's numbness gradually faded, replaced by confusion.
Didn't Damian ask her to come over?
Why wasn't he here?
Or did he even find it annoying to open the door himself?
Yes, he despised her so much that he didn't even want to look at her before.
Hesitating, Ashley tried entering the password.
To her surprise, it worked on the first try.
Because the password for this door lock was the same as the one she used to rent from him.
She gently pushed the door open and turned on the hallway light. She saw the clothes scattered on the floor, the same ones he wore yesterday, wet and unwashed.
Did he get caught in the rain?
There was no sign of Damian on the first floor, but every piece of furniture and every inch of space in his house was filled with his presence, as if those things were also imbued with his aura, making people afraid to act rashly.
"Mr. Hearst?" Ashley called out, but no one answered.
She just needed to go up the spiral staircase, past a wall of neatly arranged books, and she would see his bedroom door half-open, with the warm light of a floor lamp spilling out.
"Mr. Hearst?"
On the bed lay a tall figure, with only a stunningly handsome face exposed from the covers. But that handsome face was furrowed with tightly knit brows, and his thin, chiseled lips were sealed, silently enduring pain.
Ashley turned on the bedside lamp to create more light and then saw a fine layer of cold sweat on Damian's forehead.
"Mr. Hearst?"
She approached the groggy Damian and called out again, but Damian only furrowed his brows without making a sound.
When she touched him, his burning temperature shocked Ashley.
So hot, it must be around 104 degrees Fahrenheit!
"Mr. Hearst, you have a fever. Can you hear me?"
Damian heard someone talking, but he was too exhausted to respond, not even wanting to open his eyes, only letting out a muffled groan.
"Wait a moment, I'll go find the first aid kit."
Fortunately, Ashley had used the first aid kit before and remembered where it was stored. She quickly got the thermometer and saw the number on the LCD screen: 105 degrees Fahrenheit.
"Oh my... this temperature could kill someone!"
There were fever-reducing medications in the first aid kit, but Ashley wasn't a professional and didn't dare to use them recklessly. This was the precious Damian, and if she gave him the wrong medication and something went wrong, she couldn't bear the responsibility.
"Wait a moment, I'll call the doctor. Your fever is too severe; a doctor needs to come over."
Damian reached out from under the covers and grabbed her clothes, his dry voice uttering just one word, "Water."
He had been burning up all night, alternating between hot and cold, sweating profusely several times, and his body was already dehydrated.
Seeing his pained expression, Ashley forgot all about last night's unpleasantness and today's original intention. All that was left was compliance and heartache. She pried his burning hand away and said softly, "I'll get you some water. Wait a moment, I'll be quick."
Ashley came back with a cup of water but faced a dilemma when trying to feed him.
Damian was too weak, and she didn't have the strength to help him sit up. Drinking water while lying down would surely cause him to choke.
"Can you try to sit up?"
Damian on the bed didn't respond, seemingly delirious from the fever.
Ashley had no choice. She took a big sip of water, leaned down to his mouth, and gently pressed her warm lips against his dry ones, slowly letting the water flow into his mouth. To prevent the water from leaking, she had to press her lips tightly against his, sealing them completely.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
