The Sleeper's Wrath and His Wife's Strike novel Chapter 6

The next morning.

Mr. Quigley Sr. handed Lindsay two marriage certificates.

“Lindsay, here are your marriage papers. You’re Yves’ wife now, so I’ll be counting on you to look after him. In a bit, I’ll have the staff move your things up to the fourth floor.”

Yves valued his solitude; the entire fourth floor was his private domain.

Lindsay had prepared herself for this, but the thought of living with Yves—and being responsible for bathing him—made her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Mr. Quigley Sr. only smiled, assuming she was shy. “You’re husband and wife now, there’s no need to be so reserved.” He hesitated, then added, “Yves left a sample at the fertility clinic. If you ever want children—”

Lindsay cut him off before he could finish. “I believe he’ll wake up.”

No matter how things unfolded—no matter what fate had in store—she could never bring herself to have a child this way. It would only put herself and any child in an impossible position.

Besides Mr. Quigley Sr., the rest of the Quigley family would never accept Yves’ child as an heir.

Yves was the youngest and most beloved of Mr. Quigley Sr.’s children. If he woke up, it would be a miracle for the old man. But deep down, Mr. Quigley Sr. knew Yves would probably never open his eyes again.

“I respect your decision,” he said with a heavy sigh. “It’s a hard life I’ve asked of you. If there’s anything you want, just let me know. I’ll do my best to give it to you.”

Lindsay shook her head. Right now, all she wanted was to take care of Yves. Everything else could wait until he returned to her.

Yves’ lashes fluttered ever so slightly, as if he’d heard her and was answering in his own way.

“I’m going to get some water and help you freshen up. Your clothes need changing, too.”

The nurse hadn’t been thorough enough—Lindsay could smell something faint and unpleasant from Yves, not sure whether it was his clothes or his skin. Either way, for someone as meticulous as Yves, it would be unbearable.

She filled a bowl with warm water and began unbuttoning his shirt, talking softly as she worked. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not taking advantage of you. I’m just helping you clean up, or you’ll end up with a rash, and that’ll drive you crazy.”

As she slid the shirt from his shoulders, Lindsay froze, unable to believe what she was seeing.