Her words were like a cup of cold water that poured over Clifford's head.

He lifted his head and looked into Lori's bright cat's eyes, in which his face looked so nervous. It immediately snapped him out of a daze.

Following that, he continued with his movements and cursed angrily, "Shut up!"

Lowering his head, he gazed at her thigh after the belt was unbuckled, and the trousers were removed. The burnt spot stretched from the upper thigh to almost her knee. It was about 20 centimeters, and her thigh reddened, blistered, and some part of her skin peeled!

The pantry pool was small, so Clark picked up a cup from the holder, filled it with cold water, and poured it on Lori's thigh.

When the burning sensation met the cold water, she trembled in pain but gritted her teeth to tough it out. Not a single moan was let out.

Her head was muddled. What did Clifford mean by doing this? To atone for his startling of her when he stood at the door?

Where was the woman who just lost her baby? By rights, he should have been accompanying her recently. What was he doing here? Why did he stand at the door speechless?

There was a load of doubts in her heart. When she saw Clifford bending over and checking her injury by gently touching her skin with his fingertip, her heart melted instantly.

Could she take his nervous action as a kind of care?

A pebble was dropped to the lake of her heart, generating rings of ripples.

During the four years of marriage, their paths never crossed.

She had fantasized countless times that one day they would be reconciled. He would forget that woman and stop retaliating against her, and they could live happily. But whenever she woke up from her dream, she only saw the white light cast down from the crystal chandelier overhead. Except for her profuse sweet, and desperate gasp, only tears were falling late at night seen by no one.

She really, really loved Clifford!

Straightening up, Clifford took off his business suit, wrapped it around Lori's waist, and scooped her up into her office silently.

"Pack up!"

She sized the man with confused eyes for quite a while. She forgot when she gazed at him like this last time.

"What are you waiting for? This isn't a hospital. If your leg is not treated in time, a scar will be left, and you can stop wearing dresses again." The corner of his mouth curved up in a mocking smile, "If Mrs. Gates can't wear skirts, I assume many men will be brokenhearted."

Lori struggled, and Clifford put her down after a glance at her leg.

However, instead of packing up, she picked up her windbreaker from the chair. The long coat could almost reach her knees, so even without wearing pants, no one would notice it late in the night.

Clifford untied the expensive handmade suit from her waist and casually threw it on the sofa like trash. She knew the things she ever touched would be thrown away by him.

Because he thought it was dirty!

Turning back, she took a glance at Clifford. When his knitted brows were seen, she felt upset but then gradually at ease.

His anxiety should arise from his dignity as a man rather than his concern for her injury, right?

Although the black windbreaker could almost cover her legs, he could still see an exposed part of her fair leg. Under the pale light, that part of the skin could be seen swollen.

While packing up her things, Lori curled up the corner of her mouth and ridiculed, "Mr. Gates, because your new lover can't serve you due to the abortion, you remember the awful woman? But sorry, I'm not convenient today!"