Chapter 7 Help Her Bathe

Bella Harper swaggered away, taking out her phone to text Aria Knight, "Mission accomplished!"

She just locked Clara Knox on the terrace.

Clara Knox felt her pants pocket, but she hadn't brought her phone.

She felt like crying but had no tears.

At this hour, Grandpa was already asleep. He had insomnia, and once woken up, it was hard for him to go back to sleep. She dared not shout loudly to wake him.

Clara Knox sat down by the door, hugging her knees.

She couldn't help but wonder what Edward Harper and Aria Knight were doing at the moment. She couldn't help but laugh at her own foolishness. What else could a couple who just ended their long-distance relationship do?

As the night wind rose, Clara Knox felt exhausted in body and mind. After last night's events, she returned only to be messed with by him again, feeling utterly spent, and she slipped into a deep sleep by the door.

"Clara Knox? Wake up, Clara Knox..."

Not sure if it was a dream or reality, Clara Knox felt herself fall into a warm embrace. She opened her eyes to see a chiseled, almost perfect jawline and a throat as prominent as a mountain peak, and couldn't help but reach out to touch them.

"Don't move, you have a fever."

Clara Knox timidly retracted her hand; she was always the most obedient one.

Being carried back to the room and wrapped in a thick blanket, she finally felt her body gradually warming up.

Edward Harper left for a few minutes and came back with medicine and water. Clara Knox looked at the pills he squeezed out, her heart fluttering, unsure if there was a baby inside her belly. She knew she shouldn't take the medicine just in case.

She stared blankly at Edward Harper, and tentatively asked, "Could you run some bathwater for me? I want to soak in the bath."

After speaking, she thought she was being a bit whimsical. How could Mr. Edward Harper help her run a bath? Would she deserve it?

Unexpectedly, the next second, he handed over what was in his hands, his voice still as cold as ever,

"Take it yourself; don't make me wait on you."

Perhaps due to the privilege of being sick, Edward Harper stuffed the water cup and medicine into her hand before turning to the bathroom, and the sound of running water started. He was filling the bath with hot water.

Clara Knox took the opportunity to hide the two pills and drank the whole cup of water.

A moment later, Edward Harper came out of the bathroom, glanced at the empty cup on the bedside,

"Took the medicine?"

"Yeah."

"Go take a bath; the water's ready."

Edward Harper grabbed a clean towel from the closet and headed to the bathroom. Clara Knox was confused about what he was doing, and before she could ask, she heard him say,

"Come in, I'll help you wash."

The blood on Clara Knox's face quickly rushed up. After being together for three years, whenever they had intimate moments, the lights were always off. She never had the courage to bathe in front of him, let alone have him help.

Edward Harper placed the towel in the bathroom, not seeing her follow in, so he went back and saw Clara Knox was spacing out, leaning against the headboard.

He curled his lips in teasing,

"What are you being shy about? Where haven't I seen or touched? I'm just worried you'll fall asleep in the tub and drown, so stop overthinking."

Clara Knox turned red enough to drip blood, "We, we're divorced. It's different now. Please, give me some privacy."

Being reminded multiple times in a day that they were divorced, Edward Harper felt displeased. He pulled off his tie and tossed it on the bed, rolling up his shirt sleeves to his forearms. After doing that, he directly lifted the blanket and carried her to the bathroom.

"The paperwork isn't done yet; I'm still your husband. Remember to come to me first if anything happens, okay?"

He was referring to the incident of being robbed the night before, never imagining Clara Knox would not appreciate it.

"When are we going to finalize the paperwork?"

Clara Knox's words instantly infuriated him. Edward Harper originally intended to carry her to the edge of the tub and help her undress, but now he let go of his grip altogether.

Unprepared, Clara Knox fell straight into the water, the splash drenching a large part of his shirt front.

The slip dress was now tightened against her skin, and whether she wore it or not made little difference.

She wiped the water off her face, calmly meeting his gaze, undeterred by danger, asking again,

"When can we settle the paperwork? I can't stand it anymore."

Edward Harper was so infuriated his organs felt twisted. "Am I truly that unbearable for you? Or are you in a hurry to find your Elijah?"

To think he was bothered by Elijah, who might not even exist.

Clara Knox bitterly smiled,

"When will the divorce be finalized? Can you give me an exact timeframe? Today your sister can lock me on the terrace; tomorrow, she might as well kill me."

Edward Harper didn't believe her explanation,

"Getting locked out was your stupidity; didn't anyone teach you in kindergarten to fight back when bullied?"

He leaned in closer, his large hand pinching her chin,

"Do you even know you call out for Elijah in your dreams every night? Each time you call his name, I feel like pressing you down and bullying you hard."

"Like yesterday?"

Clara Knox retorted, ignoring her wishes when he forced himself on her, adding insult to injury to her heart.

Edward Harper recalled something, his gaze landing on her injured arm.

The wound must hurt from the water.

His anger subsided a bit, loosening his grip on her. Clara Knox's cheeks now bore several more red marks, standing out against her porcelain skin.

"Are you that anxious to get divorced?"

Clara Knox averted her gaze, suddenly afraid to confront his scorching eyes, feeling that there was something seductive there. She lowered her eyes and replied faintly, "Yes, anxious."

"Meet me at the civil affairs bureau tomorrow morning at ten with the household registration book."

He threw the words at her and slammed the door behind him.

Only then did Clara Knox calm down. When it truly came down to the point of divorce, she realized she wasn't as composed as she appeared. Three years of affection—people weren't machines. How could one just let go so easily? The heart was still unbearably aching.

Let it all end quickly.

Edward Harper sat in his car and lit a cigarette, calling his friend Austin Moore after a while.

"Let's go for a drink."

Austin Moore had just left the bar. Glancing at the time,

"Shit, why call just now? I already finished a round. You, with a wife, shouldn't you be nurturing marital affection at this hour?"

"Stop yapping nonsense, see you at the usual spot."

Austin Moore arrived at the Imperial Grande Clubhouse to find Edward Harper already slightly tipsy from drinking alone.

"You're sneaking out so late, won't little Clara have you kneeling on Durian later?"

Edward Harper seemed amused by what he found a barely tolerable joke, sarcastically questioning him,

"Who are you talking about? Do you have the right to call her Clara?"

"You dog, you wouldn't be harsh to Clara at home too, would you?"

Austin Moore bantered, pouring himself some wine. As he examined the almost empty bottle of red wine, he held it and wailed,

"My '95 Romanee-Conti, stored for a year without daring to drink it. Did you just gulp it down, you bastard?"

"I'll repay you with two bottles another day."

Edward Harper downed the drink in his glass and instructed the waiter to fetch more wine from the wine cabinet.

Austin Moore felt his liver ache, fearing the wine he had stored wouldn't last, so he too indulged heavily, refusing to let this dog enjoy his drinks alone.

Edward Harper held the wine glass between his fingers, gently swirling it, "Aria's back in the country, I'm getting divorced tomorrow."

Austin Moore choked,

"Clara wants a divorce with you, and you're out here drinking to escape?"

Edward Harper scoffed lightly,

"Which eye of yours sees me drinking to escape sorrow? Besides, I proposed the divorce. This is a celebration!"

Austin Moore scrutinized his face but found no trace of joy, only a bit of loneliness, as if he had been dumped by a woman. He couldn't help but provoke him a bit,

"A celebration, huh? I'm good at that. How about after you get the divorce papers tomorrow, I'll throw a fireworks show in the suburbs for you? Bring your gal to watch."

"You're sick, aren't you?"