Seeing this, Chloe’s expression changed. She immediately pulled him away, her tone dropping a few degrees. “Your clothes… are wet. You’ll easily… catch a cold.”
It wasn’t just his clothes; the white gauze over his eyes was completely soaked. It clung wetly to his face, making him look utterly miserable.
When had Chloe ever seen Walker in such a desolate state? Her heart gave a violent jolt.
“I forgot,” Walker said, his voice laced with a raspy edge.
Chloe reached out and removed the gauze from his eyes. “Take off your clothes… and take a shower,” she instructed.
Walker tilted his head slightly, the corners of his lips suddenly curling into a faint smile.
Chloe didn’t quite understand. What was he smiling about at a time like this?
Then she heard him say, “Chloe, you can communicate normally now.”
Hearing this, Chloe froze. She pressed her lips together slightly. It was true; she could converse normally now. Although her voice hadn’t regained its original softness and remained hoarse and unpleasant, she could at least string sentences together.
But his eyes still hadn’t recovered. She stood there clutching the wet white gauze, staring at his tightly shut eyes, and a sudden pang of sorrow gripped her heart.
Walker reached up to undress. “I’m glad you’re getting better,” he murmured as he unbuttoned his shirt.
To him, it meant she was already beginning to outgrow her need for him. He had long ceased to be the definitive choice in her heart.
“You will… get better too,” Chloe said.
Walker didn’t reply. He merely lowered his head and continued unbuttoning his shirt. Seeing this, Chloe didn’t linger; she turned and left the bathroom.
Hearing the bathroom door click shut, Walker paused. His hands dropped to his sides, as if entirely drained of strength.
Water trickled down from his hair. He opened his eyes slightly, but his dark pupils were unfocused and devoid of light. A self-deprecating smirk tugged at his lips. He then turned on the showerhead, letting the freezing water cascade over his body.
Chloe went to the guest bathroom next door to shower. After washing away her exhaustion and blow-drying her hair, she returned to the master bedroom to find Walker already sitting on the edge of the bed. His short hair was dripping wet. As she approached, she realized there was no radiating warmth from him; instead, his skin felt ice-cold.
Startled, she reached out to touch his arm. It was indeed cold.
Had he gone mad? Taking a cold shower in this weather? Wasn’t he afraid of getting sick?
Chloe’s face darkened. “What are… you doing?” she demanded.
“Hm?” Walker turned his face toward her, a hint of confusion washing over his handsome features. “What do you mean?”
His feigned ignorance made Chloe frown deeply. “Why did you… shower with cold water?” she asked.
Walker froze for a moment before replying, “I didn’t notice.”
Chloe was speechless. How could he possibly not notice? Couldn’t he feel the difference between hot and cold water? For a moment, she was utterly at a loss for words.
Her clear eyes fixed on him with a complicated gaze. “What exactly… is on your mind?” she suddenly asked.
Walker lowered his gaze. His eyelashes fluttered at her words, concealing most of his lifeless dark eyes.
“Nothing,” he murmured. “Maybe I’m just too tired. I’ll be fine after some rest.”
With that, he prepared to lie down. But Chloe grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Dry… your hair,” she insisted.
Then, she retrieved the hairdryer and began to blow-dry his short hair.