Chapter 751 Guarding His Whole World
Wyatt’s carefully staged misery was punctured in an instant, yet he showed no embarrassment. Instead, he pressed his advantage, sliding an arm around her waist, his chin brushing the crown of her head as he chuckled low. “Ms. Yunice sees right through everything… so when can this ‘sir’ finally become official?”
Yunice ignored the question, only patting the hand clamped around her waist. “Let go. You stink.”
With that, she turned and headed toward the bedroom.
Wyatt immediately followed at her heels. But after a few steps, Yunice heard something odd behind her—a faint, uneven breath, accompanied by deliberately heavy, dragging footsteps.
Suspicious, she turned and saw Wyatt leaning on the hallway wall, walking with a limp, his brow faintly furrowed. The moment her gaze landed on him, he straightened up, trying to hide it, only to let out a quiet hiss of pain.
Her brows knitted for real this time, eyes falling to his knees. “You really knelt?”
She had seen the two durians by the door earlier, but assumed they were just props for that father–daughter performance. After all, Wyatt was a man who prized his dignity above all else—even at home. How could he possibly have really done it?
Wyatt’s eyes wavered for a split second before he muttered vaguely, “…not for long.”
But everything in his tone and expression screamed, "Ask me if it hurts. Come on, feel sorry for me."
Yunice stared at him for a couple of seconds, then suddenly turned and went into the bedroom.
Wyatt’s heart jolted. Had he gone too far? He hurried after her, forgetting all about the limp.
But she only walked to the nightstand, bent down, and pulled a fresh, unopened bottle of medicated oil from the bottom drawer. Without so much as glancing his way, she tossed it backward with perfect aim into his arms.
“Rub it yourself.” Her tone was calm, even a little disdainful. “Don’t end up crippled tomorrow and make Xixi think I abused you.”
Wyatt fumbled to catch the heavy bottle. The cold glass pressed into his palm, yet his chest went hot, his lips curving upward despite himself.
Clutching it like a treasure, he trailed after Yunice as she changed into her nightclothes, resting his chin on her shoulder with brazen persistence.
“Honey,” his muffled voice brimmed with delight, “you do care about me.”
Without turning, Yunice jabbed her elbow lightly backward. “Go rub your medicine. It stinks. You’re not sleeping in my room.”
So Wyatt didn’t.
Instead, he leaned against the master bedroom doorframe, watching Yunice fall asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. There were faint shadows under her eyes. His own eyes tightened with distress, but he said nothing, quietly closing the door before heading to the study.
After dealing with a handful of urgent emails, the clock read two in the morning.
Rubbing his brow, he still couldn’t rest easy.
He pushed open the bedroom door without a sound. Moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a gentle glow across the bed.
Yunice lay on her side, breathing deep and steady, one hand resting protectively on their daughter.
Mindy sprawled every which way, a little foot propped against her mother’s waist, clutching a fluffy bunny in her arms, a trace of drool at the corner of her mouth.
Wyatt’s heart melted into nothing.
He padded closer, carefully tucking his daughter’s restless foot back under the blanket, then adjusting Yunice’s fallen arm so it was covered. His fingertips brushed her cool skin, and he paused, turning up the air conditioner temperature a notch.
Finished, he didn’t leave. Instead, he sat silently on the edge of the bed, letting the hazy moonlight spill across the two most precious faces in his life.
Looking at Mindy’s Yunice–like features, so clever when awake, now soft and dependent in sleep, his chest swelled with a mix of tenderness and ache.
His fingers hovered, tracing her small outline in the air, but he never dared let them fall.
Then his gaze shifted to Yunice, satisfaction tempered by clear sorrow.
She was always like this—throwing herself into work until she forgot herself, as though she could split into two people. Patients would never run out, but her strength was finite. He longed for her to lean on him more, to ease her endless tension.
With a voiceless sigh, he bent and brushed the lightest of kisses against her temple, then another on his daughter’s sweetly scented hair.
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to crawl into bed and disturb their rest. Instead, he tucked the covers securely around them, making sure no draft could slip through.
Finally, he lowered himself onto the rug by the bed, long legs stretched loosely, back resting against the mattress.
And there, within reach of their steady breathing, he closed his eyes in contentment, keeping watch over his whole world as he drifted into sleep alongside them.