Wesley gently wiped away the tears on Blair's face and asked the therapist, "How is she?"

Dr. Xue smiled. "She was unhappy because of her past, and she kept all that bottled up. Now she admitted it, she'll be fine. She just needs some rest."

"So what's the prognosis?"

"Don't worry. She's going through a lot right now, and probably needs some time to process it. Take her outdoors as much as you can to help her forget those things. Then she will be fine." "

But..." There was still one thing baffling Wesley. "If she loves me so much, why does she keep trying to leave?"

"You'd have to ask her. She's probably mad at you for something. Whether she'll tell you is beyond my pay grade. It could also be for some other reason. Whatever it was, it's on you. I could get her to talk about the bad memories, but I can't guarantee she won't try to run off. If I were you, I'd have a heart-to-heart with her."

Wesley scooped Blair up and said to the doctor, "Probably a good idea."

"Take her home. She doesn't need any medicine. But watch her. And get her out in the open air. Don't keep her cooped up."

"Okay. Thank you, doctor."

"Don't mention it. I'll have my assistant print out discharge papers."

Blair slept for quite a few hours after they got home. She had a dream, where she was with her parents, the Ji family, and Wesley. It seemed like several days passed in the dream.

In that dream, she brought Wesley home. Her parents were very happy to meet him and even urged them to have a baby ASAP, so they could be grandparents.

The next morning, she got up quite early. When Wesley woke up and turned his head to look for her, she wasn't in bed.

He was so worried he didn't bother dressing before he donned his slippers hurriedly and ran out of the bedroom, shouting, "Blair! Blair!"

He stopped when he saw her in the kitchen. She was busy making breakfast.

She was making omelets, with the range hood on. Hearing him calling her, she smiled, spatula in hand. "Hey! You're awake. I'm making breakfast. It will be ready in a bit."

The mischievous smile she gave him was reassuring. The old Blair was back. The girl he met a few years ago.

He nodded and asked with caution, "Feeling okay?"

Blair blinked. "Of course."

He let out of a sigh of relief. "Good. I'm going to grab a shower."

"Don't be too long, or I might take your portion," she warned.

"No problem. Then I'll have you for breakfast. Even better."

Blair blushed. Then an unfamiliar smell hit her nose. "Ah! Shoot! My omelet burned! It's your fault. You distracted me! Boo...hoo..."

Seeing that she could smile, joke and cry, Wesley was finally convinced that she was fine, and was relieved.

After breakfast, Blair wanted to go out and find a job, but Wesley stopped her. "I wouldn't do that. You'll miss the trip."

"Trip? Where are we going?"

"Don't know yet. Where do you want to go?" Wesley asked.

"I don't know. Anywhere I haven't been, I guess." She'd enjoy the scenery anywhere, as long as he was by her side.

"I'll tell you when I've decided." Wesley started clearing the table.

"Okay."

That evening, Wesley went out and Blair stayed home, preferring to read.

When he got back, she was about to go to bed. Hearing Wesley open the door, she craned her neck and said, "You're back!"

"Yeah." Wesley lowered his head to change into his slippers.

Blair walked over. "Where did you go? Figure out where we're vacationing yet?" She couldn't wait.

Wesley took off his coat as he strode towards her. That was when she noticed he wore a rather different expression.

And she could smell the rancid stench of sweat and alcohol. "Did you go out drinking?"

"Yeah, with Carlos and the other guys." Wesley tossed his coat onto the sofa and held her.

Blair winced at the stench as he nuzzled her neck. "You're drunk," she said, poking his forehead with her index finger.

"I had fun." He was so happy that he had drunk more than he usually could.

Blair had known Wesley for ten years. This was the first time she had seen him drunk. She thought Wesley was funnier when he was drunk.

So she decided to have some fun. "Go to your room and get a shower!" she ordered.

"Okay, but you bathe me."

Blair didn't see that coming. 'He hits on me even when he's drunk.' "You can do it yourself."

"No!" he said like an unhappy child.

Blair gaped at his tone.

"Fine, I'll lead you there," she conceded.

Wesley hugged her all the way. Blair half-dragged and half-led him into the bathroom. "You are stinking drunk. How did you get home, anyway? Some girl drop you off?" she demanded.

"No. No other women. Only my wife. Sweetheart, call me 'honey.'" He held her tight and wouldn't let her go.

Blair liked it when he acted cute. She rubbed his cheeks and said, "I can call you 'honey, ' but you'll have to promise to let me make love to you once every two weeks."

"Okay," he answered readily.

Blair gloated inside, thinking her trick worked. When she called him "honey," Wesley felt his heart nearly melt. He was so turned on he pushed her against the wall and kissed her like she had never been kissed before.

Blair felt like she was suffocating when she heard him say, "Cool. You make love to me once every two weeks and I get you every day. I'm even happier now."

"Eh? That's not what I meant. I meant we had sex once every two weeks. That goes for both of us," she explained.

Wesley pressed against her, so close that his breath—mingled with the smell of alcohol—tickled her when he spoke. "That won't do. I need a kiss first. Then we talk."

"Okay."

He kissed her. "Sweetheart, you smell so good."

"I'm not wearing perfume."

"Doesn't matter."

"Let's talk." Blair tried to change the subject.

"Okay. Let's go to bed. Then we can talk about whatever we want." Wesley lowered his head and kissed her.

He didn't let go of her until the next morning. When he finally fell asleep, Blair grabbed her bag and left the apartment. She donned a mask so no one would recognize her.

She went to the Fifth Hospital for a gynecological examination. Her vagina was sore, and she felt stinging pain, almost like a paper cut.

The doctor applied a local anesthetic cream to the area. "You need to slow down. You have tiny tears inside you thanks to your escapades. I've also prescribed some antibiotic cream so your infection won't set in. Don't take a shower today. Apply the rest of the medicine at home. And I'd hold off having sex in the near future until that heals up."

Despite the mask, blush could be seen sneaking up her cheeks. "Yes, doctor. I'll be more careful. Thank you." Blair left the doctor's office and winced as she walked. It hurt like hell.

She wished she could punch Wesley in the face right then and there. But he'd probably fight back, and she didn't need that. She was in enough pain.

The exhausted man was sound asleep. When he woke up, his wife was gone. He grabbed his phone and called her immediately, "Sweetheart, where are you?"

His voice told her that he had sobered up. "I'm in the hospital."

Wesley's eyes flew wide open. "Why? What's wrong?"

Blair gritted her teeth. "Not here. I'll tell you on WeChat."

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