CHAPTER 35: CHAPTER 35: I DON’T WANT TO GET PREGNANT ANYMORE

Eleanor Winslow suddenly laughed out loud.

Under the light, the usually charming smile of the woman was somewhat bitter.

"Adrian Grant, what I seek is not that we have a marriage certificate, not that I’m listed as your spouse, not the title Mrs. Grant or Third Young Madam Grant, not that we live in the same house and sleep in the same bed.

What I want is a man who likes me, loves me with all his heart, only has eyes for me, and under any circumstances, I would be his only choice, do you understand?"

"Then am I your only choice?"

Before Eleanor Winslow’s voice had fallen, Adrian asked.

—Yes.

Eleanor answered in her heart.

But she dared not speak this answer out loud because she knew she wasn’t Adrian Grant’s only choice.

Between her and Mia Winslow, he chose Mia Winslow.

She had no reason to rush forward to get slapped by others, and let her self-esteem be trampled underfoot.

Three years ago, she drunkenly offered herself, using up all her youthful and ignorant courage that night.

And over these three years, Adrian Grant had already worn out the last bit of strength she had to maintain this relationship.

"You’re not." Eleanor lowered her gaze and said.

"Heh." Adrian chuckled with light derision.

He wasn’t surprised by Eleanor’s silent response; after all, in her heart, she once had his elder brother, and some so-called senior, but never him.

Back then, marrying him was nothing more than being forced by circumstances!

The sound of showering came from the bathroom.

The spacious bedroom was frighteningly quiet.

Eleanor hugged her knees, sitting at the head of the bed, staring at the Fire Spirit Bird roses on the bedside cabinet, not knowing how things had reached this point.

Just a few minutes ago, she and Adrian Grant seemed to have a trace of splendor.

Was it because she said something wrong about the fee?

Perhaps she indeed said something wrong.

They are in a marital relationship right now; she has the duties of a wife.

Originally, marrying him was what her heart desired; he led her out of the clutches of The Winslow Family.

When Eleanor’s tender feelings towards Adrian began, it was in this room—he once, really treated her well.

Really very well.

She glanced at the bathroom’s direction and suddenly made up her mind and walked over.

"Knock knock knock!"

Eleanor knocked on the bathroom door.

The shower stopped, but no response came from the man.

Eleanor knew he could hear her, and she calmly said at the door, "Adrian Grant, open the door."

The bathroom was silent.

Eleanor knocked again.

Two seconds later, the bathroom door opened.

Steam billowed inside.

Eleanor walked in without hesitation, startling Adrian Grant to take a step back.

"Elean... mm!"

Adrian was caught off guard, and the woman, without saying a word, pushed her hands against his chest and walked in.

Before he could react, those soft lips suddenly covered his.

This was the first time in three years of marriage that Eleanor took the initiative.

Adrian’s brain seemed to crash, going blank, yet also as if fireworks exploded in his mind.

"Elean—mm!"

Eleanor didn’t give him a chance to speak, just like the countless times he treated her, though her stature was not as domineering as his.

Adrian was fatally addicted to Eleanor’s body, uncontrollably kissing back.

There were cold water stains on the floor, Eleanor barefoot, slightly slipping underfoot.

"Ah—"

Eleanor exclaimed in shock.

Adrian’s body reacted faster than his mind, quickly supporting her waist to prevent a fall.

Eleanor halted the kiss, her eyes misty like a startled doe, or like a bullied little fox.

Evoking sympathy, it was hard to look away.

"What’s the matter?" Adrian stroked Eleanor’s cheek with one hand, his voice hoarse, clearly in restraint.

His eyes were dark, burning with intense desire.

"Don’t you want to?" Eleanor leaned her back against the cold tiles, slightly panting, her breath unstable as she spoke.

"And what do you want?" With tension mounting, Adrian’s expression was not pleasant.

He kissed Eleanor’s red lips, softly saying, "Zia, I don’t engage in unclear transactions."

Eleanor remembered the last time she tried to use this method to persuade Adrian to spare Jude Winslow, he guessed her intentions and refused her.

"It’s not a transaction."

The water dampened Eleanor’s silk nightgown, and her gaze upward at him made Adrian’s Adam’s apple bob.

Eleanor frowned, accusing, "The cold water you washed with chilled me."

She was indeed spoiled, and her tone was accusatory, yet seemingly coquettish in favor.

Adrian quite enjoyed this aspect of her.

The damp bathroom quickly elevated the temperature indescribably.

...

The overly bright environment made Eleanor feel ashamed, the bathroom instinctively felt more dangerous, yet made Adrian all the more excited.

"Hand!"

Eleanor suddenly exclaimed.

Adrian’s mind snapped back, almost immediately stopping to check her injured hand.

The white bandage was slightly soaked with water.

"Sorry, did it hurt?"

Eleanor was actually making an excuse, as his every move almost instinctively avoided her hand’s injury.

But seeing him so anxious about her injury, Eleanor felt mixed emotions in her heart.

Adrian carried her out of the bathroom, returned to the bed, holding her hand to examine.

"Does it still hurt? Should I call the family doctor to take a look?"

"I don’t want to see a doctor." Eleanor nudged him, reminding, "Protection."

His initiative and urgency were like stimulants, Adrian glanced at the person beneath him: "Didn’t Grandma want us to have a child?"

"Didn’t you say, if asked, you would say you’re sick?"

On the bed, at such a moment, for her to say such a thing, Adrian was amused with anger.

He pinched the woman’s chin: "Mrs. Grant, practice will yield the truth, am I sick or not, isn’t it easy to find out through trial?"

"Which sickness are you referring to?"

Though not explicitly stated, both understood each other’s implication.

"No sickness at all." Adrian replied.

"Even so, you need to use it." Eleanor was insistent.

She no longer wants to get pregnant.

If there were children, she hoped they would be born into a family with a complete and loving set of parents.