Craving 150

 

Chapter150 

In that moment of tenderness and passion, Ellsworth forgot all 

about his pain. 

It wasn’t until they heard footsteps outside that Harriet hurriedly 

pushed him away, saying with disdain, “Looks like Grandpa 

really went easy on you.” 

Ellsworth chuckled, raised his hand to wipe her lips, his gaze 

gentle. 

Harriet ignored him, shot him a glare, and began tidying up the 

dishes before heading downstairs. 

A moment passed. 

When she returned to the room again, she saw Ellsworth holding clothes, about to go take a shower. 

For a moment, Harriet looked at Ellsworth in shock and said, “Ellsworth, are you crazy? Do you have a death wish?” 

Ellsworth, however, didn’t care and said, “It’s not that serious.” 

11 

… 

Harriet. 

Seeing the way she looked at him as if he were a monster, 

Ellsworth said nothing more, shoved the clean clothes into 

Harriet’s arms, and, pressing the back of her neck, made her go 

to the bathroom with him. 

She hadn’t intended to pay him any mind, but Ellsworth locked 

the door behind them, leaving Harriet with no way out. 

In the end, under his instructions, she was forced to help him a 

bit, washing the parts of him that could be washed. 

When the two of them came out of the bathroom, Harriet didn’t 

dare look at him, thinking Ellsworth was really shameless. 

In the bedroom, seeing Harriet’s ears slightly red and her eyes 

avoiding his, Ellsworth was amused and teased her, “We’re 

already married, and you’re still shy?” 

Harriet looked up at him and replied calmly, “If I weren’t at least 

a little shy, you probably wouldn’t find it so funny.” 

Harriet’s retort made Ellsworth smile even more. He said, 

“You’ve learned to be witty now.” 

He remembered how she used to always be so prim and proper, 

doing whatever he asked her to do. 

Seeing Ellsworth so smug, Harriet kept her expression cool and deliberately said, “Since you’re in such a good mood, let’s go file for divorce on Monday…” 

Before Harriet could finish, Ellsworth cupped her face in both hands and leaned down to kiss her again. 

This time, Harriet was truly angered by his kiss. She pressed 

both hands against his chest and gave him a hard shove. 

“Ellsworth, don’t use your injuries as an excuse to act 

shamelessly. Don’t think I don’t have a temper…” 

Before Harriet could finish saying ‘temper,’ Ellsworth continued to hold her face and kissed her again. 

Ellsworth was still being shameless. Harriet pushed him hard, and Ellsworth gasped, saying in a low voice, “Harriet, it really 

hurts.” 

Hearing him say it hurt, Harriet quickly withdrew her hands from 

his chest, then slowly clenched them into fists, pressing them 

between the two of them. 

When Ellsworth started getting handsy, Harriet stopped him, blocking his hands and asking, “Aren’t you going to put on your 

medicine?” 

fingers, and obediently went to lie on the bed. 

Seeing him behave, Harriet took the medicine the doctor had 

left and sat down by the bed. 

Looking at the whip marks on Ellsworth’s back, Harriet was 

shocked. She couldn’t imagine how much it would hurt if those 

lashes had landed on her. 

As she applied the medicine to the wounds on Ellsworth’s back, 

her hand paused when she saw the palm-sized burn scar on his 

right shoulder, and she fell silent. 

When she was fifteen, there was an electrical fire at her house. 

She was on the second floor and didn’t escape in time. 

Surrounded by flames, thinking she was about to die and see 

her mother again, Ellsworth kicked open her door and rushed in. 

At that moment, she was both shocked and comforted, never 

expecting Ellsworth to arrive before the firefighters. 

She called him Ells, and Ellsworth charged into the fire, scooped 

her up from the floor, and ran out through the flames. 

That burn scar was left from that time. 

Holding the medicine and a cotton ball in her left hand, Harriet 

gently touched the scar on his back with her fingers, unable to 

describe what she was feeling inside. 

If it weren’t for these things, she would never have 

misunderstood that Ellsworth liked her. 

If it weren’t for these things, she probably wouldn’t have 

endured for three years, wouldn’t have tolerated him for three 

years. 

She remembered that time on the garden balcony when he 

talked with Johnathan, remembered him saying he didn’t like 

her type, remembered him saying she wasn’t worth it. Harriet’s 

right hand, which was touching his scar, paused as well. 

Sitting silently by the bed, Harriet was lost in thought. Ellsworth 

turned to glance at her. 

Their eyes met, and Harriet quickly snapped out of it, saying to 

him, “The wounds are pretty deep.”