Lori raised her head and squinted at Clifford.

Didn't Owen speak what Clifford thought? Why did he retort so anxiously?

"Mr. Dulles, you are wrong. Mr. Gates has so many lovers around him. Even if I, the pioneer, die, he will not be a widower! It's like a succession of waves, and many later waves are anxious to push me to the shore!"

Following her words, she turned her head sideways. Her face was no longer calm, and her brows furrowed slightly. Biting her lip tightly, she secretly stroked her stomach under the quilt, and her legs flinched slightly.

Clifford turned his head for a fierce glance at Owen. The latter touched his nose and obediently got into a small lounge inside. In a moment, they still had serious business to talk about.

He poured the porridge from the thermal box into a small white porcelain bowl. Reaching out his hand, he was going to put a pillow behind Lori and feed her, only to find her biting her lip and her body gradually curling up like a shrimp.

"What's wrong? It hurts?"

Hearing his rare concern without sarcasm, Lori felt like crying. Her heart was full of grievances, but she refused to acknowledge it, "I don't need your care!"

Didn't she need his care? Whose did she need?

"Lori, don't you forget that I am your husband!"

Clifford snarled by her ears. If this wasn't a hospital, Owen wasn't in the lounge, and she wasn't a patient who just survived grave danger, he wouldn't mind showing her what he meant!

Lori abruptly turned back, trying hard to stare at the approaching handsome face with her misty, cat's eyes. She wanted to talk back, but her expression changed the moment when she saw the V-shaped scar at the corner of his forehead.

"If I die, wouldn't you have the chance to find other women fairly and squarely?"

"Argh..." Hands on hips, Clifford straightened up, pursed his lips, looked around, gnashed his teeth, gazed at her, and snarled, "If you die, who am I going to torture?"

In desperation, she turned her head sideways again and struggled to curl up. Now that her scalded leg hadn't healed yet, a slight movement would bring her pain. In the meanwhile, her stomach churned so violently that she wanted to pull her intestines out.

Under the deadlock, the air was filled with angry gasps and the sound of Lori's snuffling.

In pain, she was on the brink of spasm, which distressed Clifford.

Before he could reach out to pull her into his arms, the ward's door was suddenly opened. A fit of clear clicks from high heels rushed to the bed. When Clifford just straightened up, he was slapped in the face.

"Clifford, damn, are you a man? You wouldn't stop torturing Lori until she dies?"

Clark's roar ignited the fury in the room. Owen came out of the inner lounge, noticing the open door and two poking heads from outside. He trotted over, closed the door, locked it, glanced at Clifford with a sullen face, and then Clark with neat, short hair and an angry rhino's face. With his mouth agape, he finally landed his gaze on Lori.

His buddy was always an excellent man, seldom lost his temperature, and did neat jobs. But whenever he met his wife, the bad side of him would all come out.

How would this be fixed?

Lori turned her head, bit her lip, and gazed at the fingerprint on Clifford's face. She knew that the slap should be hard as Clark was born in a military family. Deep down, she was anxious to get up and soothe him. In the end, however, she turned her head away and buried her face in her chest.