Chapter 272: Coming Home
Under Fraser’s deep, dangerous gaze, Summer’s heartbeat faltered. She turned her head away, staring straight ahead. “I want to go home.”
Fraser slowly withdrew his gaze and casually asked, “Back to Ravenshire Boulevard?”
Summer blinked. This man really took every chance he got. She opened her mouth, about to say no, but Fraser had already turned the steering wheel toward Ravenshire Boulevard.
Leaning back in the driver’s seat, Fraser lazily said, “You’ll have another check-up in a few days. You should stay until the results come out—so you don’t start crying again.”
Summer frowned. “Who cried?”
Fraser glanced sideways at her, amusement clear in his indulgent tone. “Fine, fine, I’m the one who cried.”
Summer knew she could never win against him, so she gave up arguing. She thought for a moment. On the day of the next examination, she really didn’t want to be alone. Then she remembered something. “I don’t have any extra clothes.”
“Don’t worry,” Fraser said, lips curled up playfully. “If necessary, you can always wear mine.”
Summer wrinkled her nose. “No thanks.”
Seeing her cute expression, Fraser smiled softly and reached over to ruffle her hair. “Silly girl.”
Half an hour later, at Ravenshire Boulevard. Stepping back into this place again, Summer’s emotions became complicated. The last time she’d come here was to pack up her things. She’d thought she’d never return.
The box she’d thrown out last time was still sitting untouched by the door. She turned toward Fraser. “Why is that stuff still here?” She clearly remembered throwing it in the trash.
Surprised by her sudden question, Fraser momentarily froze. He quickly looked away, his voice awkward and arrogant. “Didn’t you say those things were bought with my money? If I wanted to pick them back up, I could.”
Watching Fraser’s proud yet awkward expression, warmth quietly spread through Summer’s heart, slowly rising to the surface. “I’ll go shower first.”
As Summer walked toward the master bedroom, she hesitated, her gaze flickering between the master and guest rooms. Behind her came Fraser’s relaxed voice: “You can sleep in the master bedroom tonight.”
Only after hearing that did Summer slowly open the bedroom door. She stepped inside and glanced around. Their clothes still hung neatly side-by-side in the closet, intimate and orderly, as if she’d never left.
Summer moved to the vanity and paused when she saw the sapphire bracelet lying there. She picked up the bracelet. Each gemstone was carved with a unique pattern, still glittering beautifully under the light. Summer lowered her eyes, emotions unreadable. After a moment, she quietly placed the bracelet back down. She chose conservative pajamas from the closet and entered the bathroom.
After quickly washing up, she came out to the living room and stopped at the kitchen door. Fraser stood by the countertop, sleeves rolled up to reveal the taut muscles of his forearms, clearly cooking something. Hearing her footsteps, Fraser glanced back briefly. Then he carried a bowl of porridge out of the kitchen.
Smelling it, Summer realized she was actually hungry. Holding the bowl, Fraser stirred the porridge gently with a spoon. He pulled her closer and made her sit down. Fraser sat beside her, scooped up some porridge, and brought it to her lips.
Summer felt a bit embarrassed. “I can feed myself.” She reached out to take the spoon, intending to eat on her own. Fraser moved the spoon out of her reach, eyes dark yet carefree. “I want to feed you.”
Summer bit her lip and tried again, “Fraser, I’m not that fragile. Tonight was just an accident—I got emotional, but I’m fine now. You don’t have to worry so much.”
Fraser let out a quiet sigh, his voice gentle but firm as he spoke slowly: “Summer, when you’re with me, you can be sad, you can laugh, you can throw tantrums—anything you want. I won’t force you again. But when you’re hurt, I just don’t want you to pretend you’re fine around me.”
Summer’s eyelashes trembled slightly at his words. Looking at the spoon he offered again, she slowly opened her mouth and took a sip.
“How is it?”
“It’s okay.”
Fraser’s lips curved into a playful smile. “Just okay? The cook spent hours preparing it, and then I spent another half-hour fixing it up. Ms. Summer, your tastes have gotten picky.”