C8 I'll miss you

While waiting for Ivan to finish his shower, I prepared his clothes for him. I also freshened up the bed sheets and pillowcases.

They weren't soiled, but Ivan is very particular about his belongings, even before his amnesia sets in. He insists on having his towels and bedding laundered daily, and he's even more particular about these matters than the average woman.

I was the one who changed them, but the laundrywoman took care of washing them.

When the bathroom door opened, I glanced in his direction, but as he was only in a towel, I quickly averted my eyes. There's a bathrobe in the bathroom, so why didn't he use it?

I cleared my throat because it felt dry and then approached him with my gaze fixed on the floor, helping him move towards the couch where I had laid out his clothes. He should have dressed on his own, but he's uncomfortable with his nurse, so she's no longer around. That's why I'm the only one looking after him.

Oh, Myla, why are you still taking care of him? He'll eventually leave you because he already loves someone else, my thoughts scolded me.

To be honest, I often find myself questioning why I continue to do this.

My heart responds that it's because I love him.

Why is it like that? When you love someone, you tend to become blind. I might be the one who's blind in this situation. It's me, along with this feeling of numbness, because even though he doesn't love me, I persist in inserting myself into his life.

So when I'm in pain and hurting, I can't blame anyone but myself.

I sighed and offered my shoulder for support as he slowly made his way to the couch.

He sat down on the couch, and I handed him his briefs before turning away. I probably don't need to assist him with putting on his underwear.

"Why are your cheeks turning red?" he teasingly asked. I responded by rolling my eyes.

After he managed to put on his briefs and sweat shorts, I helped him put on his T-shirt. There's a wound and a large bruise on his arm that hasn't healed much, so he struggles to move it, particularly when dressing.

"I'll get the oil," I told him.

His leg required a massage for some relief, but he was reluctant to hire a masseuse. I had a feeling he was testing me, perhaps wanting me to struggle, so that I'd leave immediately.

His woman must be quite impatient.

I took hold of his leg and positioned it on my thighs for the massage. I sensed him pause and give me a penetrating look, but I pretended not to notice.

Putting oil on my palms, I applied and spread it on one of his legs and began the massage. His lips parted slightly as he adjusted his posture and leaned back.

"Uhmm," he groaned, causing me to pause, especially when I noticed him closing his eyes tightly.

"Was it painful?" I asked with concern.

"A little. Please continue with what you're doing," he replied without looking at me.

After I finished massaging his leg, I proceeded to massage his feet and repeated the same process with his other leg.

"Will you massage my thigh?" he inquired.

"Huh? The nurse only mentioned your leg, right?"

"It's a bit painful there too," he explained. I couldn't tell if he was telling the truth, and I had a feeling he might tease me, sensing something peculiar in his eyes.

"Later," I said, resuming the massage on his leg.

"You're good at massaging," he said while looking up. I simply smiled and didn't respond further.

"I'm done," I announced.

"My thigh isn't done yet," he replied with a mischievous grin. I wasn't sure whether to be pleased or cautious about what he was saying and doing.

"It's time for you to eat because you need to take your medicine," I said as I stood up promptly.

What a cunning provocateur he was! It seemed like he was trying to seduce me, but I had no intention of allowing him to take advantage of me, if that was the case.

I could clearly see that he was affected by the massage I had administered, as evidenced by his 'bulge.'

Tsk! Let him be. I stayed because I wanted to take care of him while he was not fully recovered, but I had no intention of sleeping with him.

My role as his wife ends here because if he didn't have amnesia, I know he wouldn't be like that with me. He'd probably find me repulsive.

We'll also be going our separate ways, so my role as his wife is limited to taking care of him without any physical involvement.

I fetched his food from the kitchen because he still hadn't eaten in the dining room, preferring to have his meals in his room.

"Aren't you going to feed me?" he asked with a smile. Ugh, he's trying to be cute again!

"Weren't your hands fine now?" I muttered as I arranged his food on a small table in front of him.

"It still hurts," he reasoned. He tried to lift his hand. It was still trembling, but I knew he was just putting on an act.

He can be quite stubborn, too.

I simply shook my head and picked up the spoon.

A broad smile spread across his face.

"Enjoy your meal, baby bull. Say 'ah!'"

He complied, opening his mouth obediently, which made me chuckle.

"When I'm no longer here, will you miss me?" I blurted out without much thought.

He paused as he chewed.

I cleared my throat, realizing it was just a passing thought. Why did I say that?

"Do you like these vegetables?" I asked to change the subject.

He simply nodded.

After he finished eating, I handed him a glass of water and his medications, then cleared his dining utensils, placing them on a tray.

"Take a rest for now," I said, before turning away.

"Myla?"

I glanced back at him. "Are you really planning to leave?"

I was unsure how to respond to his question, and I couldn't quite fathom why he had asked it in the first place. Despite my annoyance, I managed a smile.

"I have to," I replied succinctly. I needed to, and it's only fair because you don't love me anyway.

"I'll miss you."

I froze but didn't press him with further questions. I continued walking out of his room.