Daisy Ginger turned her face to look at him. Perhaps due to the blood loss, she became very drowsy, and in less than five minutes, she fell asleep against the pillow.
Edward Stephens sat by the bed, looking at Daisy’s pale face under the light.
Words from Nicholas Woods echoed in his mind.
"Establish an intimate connection."
"This is also a form of desensitization therapy."
"Maybe it will help alleviate her PTSD."
Edward leaned on the sofa, suddenly feeling a violent shake from the bed. He woke up instantly and quickly turned on the light, only to see Daisy, eyes closed, struggling on the bed with rapid breaths.
At some point, her face had become covered in sweat, her hair sticking to her skin with cold sweat. This was the first time Edward had witnessed Daisy’s nightmarish state up close, her eyes tightly shut, silently screaming like a prisoner on the brink of death.
Seeing that the freshly sewn wound on her hand was about to tear open, the man reached out, pressing down her weakly struggling hands, then took the unfinished glass of water from the bedside table and splashed it on Daisy’s face. Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡~𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚~𝙣𝙚𝙩
Daisy cried out, suddenly opening her eyes. Her eyes revealed a trace of confusion under the light, unfocused as she looked at the void above until Edward spoke, "You had a nightmare, Daisy."
"..." Daisy’s chest heaved violently, more cold sweat poured down from the corner of her forehead. She seemed to finally see Edward’s face clearly, slowly blinking and weakly whispering his name: "...Edward."
Edward leaned down, looking at Daisy’s face closely, his reflection in her helpless pupils. He softly asked, "How are you feeling now?"
"...Let go of my hand first," Daisy reluctantly said.
Edward looked at her face, seeming to notice something, and released her wrist, then took a step back.
Daisy slowly sat up from the bed, supporting herself as if she were a rusty machine, her movements sluggish, her face growing paler.
Edward gazed at her intently, his expression becoming increasingly grave.
"...Did I scare you?" She looked up, managing a feeble smile at him, wiping the cold sweat from her forehead to her chin with her fingers.
She probably didn’t realize how awful her smile looked right now.
Edward turned around and walked out.
Seeing his back, Daisy suddenly panicked and instinctively threw off the blanket, trying to chase after him, "Edward!"
Her voice was filled with fear and despair.
She had seen her own episodes, that twisted expression more terrifying than a ghost, and Edward had seen it too. It was normal for him to dislike her.
The secret she least wanted Edward to know had been told to him by Nicholas, and the fear and inferiority made her feet tremble gently when she touched the ground.
If Edward demanded a divorce because of this, she wouldn’t even be able to find a reason to refuse him.
She had a mental illness. There was no law in this world that stated Edward must live with a lunatic forever.
Edward reached the door, seeing her staggering down, he frowned, turned back, grabbed Daisy’s slender shoulders, and hauled her back onto the bed, asking harshly, "Why did you get out of bed?!"
Daisy clung tightly to his sleeve, looking up at him with unease, she asked, "Edward, where are you going?"