Remarriage Failed Again Today

Annabelle Linton froze at his words.

Then, she acted as if nothing had happened.

’Right. I know you like Vivian Yates.’

She tucked a pillow into his arms and slowly backed out of the room.

Her hand on the doorknob paused, and she glanced back at him.

Leona Grant clutched the pillow, still murmuring, "Annabelle Linton, you’re my..."

A sarcastic look crossed Annabelle Linton’s face. The light cast a shadow across her features, making them appear even more defined.

Her lips curved into a cold smirk as she shut the door, her face devoid of expression.

...

It was already three in the afternoon the next day when Leona Grant woke up.

The long sleep had done him a world of good, but the hangover was brutal. His head was killing him.

He stared at the white ceiling above, his gaze unfocused and dazed.

’Where am I?’

"Leona, you’re awake?" Xylas Shepherd’s voice sounded from beside him.

Leona Grant frowned and sat up, only then realizing he was in a hospital.

Xylas Shepherd stood by the bed, smiling down at him. Across the room, Nathaniel Locke was lounging on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other. He leaned back lazily, a wicked smirk playing on his lips as he eyed Leona Grant.

A sharp pain shot through his head the moment he sat up.

Leona Grant frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Noticing he was hooked up to an IV, he casually ripped the needle out of his arm. "What are you two doing here?" he asked coolly.

"Heh," Nathaniel Locke scoffed.

Xylas Shepherd grinned mischievously. "We heard you chased your wife all the way to Nordmark, only to get your heart broken and drink yourself into a fever. As your brothers, isn’t it only right that we come to check on you?"

’Concern?’

’More like they’re here to gloat.’

Leona Grant got out of bed and walked toward the bathroom, his expression cold. "If you’ve had your fun, you can leave. I’m fine. Don’t waste your time."

Xylas Shepherd called out after him, "Hey, take this medicine first! Your wife gave the order. She told me to make sure you take the fever reducer, or you’ll suffer complications later."

At last, Leona Grant stopped in his tracks. He turned to look at Xylas in surprise. "Annabelle Linton?"

"Yeah. You didn’t really think *I* cared that much about you, did you? Pfft," Xylas Shepherd said with a flippant air.

Leona Grant’s heart skipped a beat, as if struck by something. Faint ripples spread through him.

’Is she... worried about me?’

Leona Grant pressed his lips together, a flicker of pleasant surprise in his eyes. But the thought of her and Aaron Wyatt immediately returned, and his expression iced over.

He scoffed. "Her, care about me? She probably wishes I’d just drop dead."

Xylas Shepherd raised an eyebrow. "If she wanted you dead, she wouldn’t have brought you to the hospital," he said calmly. "If it were me, I would’ve just dumped you on the street. You’ve had a fever for days, and she looked after you all night. She only left because she got called into work. Don’t you think that’s a bit heartless to say?"

With a cold, dismissive look, Leona Grant turned his back on him and walked into the bathroom.

But he couldn’t stop the frantic, chaotic thumping of his own heart.

A subtle, chaotic excitement spread through him.

...

At ten o’clock that night, Annabelle Linton dragged her exhausted body home.

She hadn’t slept a wink the previous night. Today, she had taken Leona Grant to the hospital, then gotten a call from her team for a free clinic. She’d been spinning like a top, not stopping for a single moment.

Annabelle Linton walked in, not even bothering to turn on the lights. She dropped her medical kit and headed straight for the bathroom.

After her shower, she came out in a bathrobe, planning to find something to eat.

CLICK. She flicked on the light. Sitting bolt upright on the bed was Leona Grant, his eyes fixed on her with a haunting gaze.

The sudden appearance of another person in the room startled Annabelle Linton so badly that she nearly threw the table lamp at him.