CHAPTER 57: BRUCE, HAVE YOUR LEGS RECOVERED?

The wine fragrance, along with a girl’s unique aura, pounced towards his ears.

Hilla covered her lips and smiled, like a shy cat. She waved her hands and pouted. Then, she hugged his arm and whispered, "Did you know? I got married!"

He was not curious about that she got married. As her husband, wasn’t he supposed to know about it?

Bruce pursed his lips and said, "Yes, I know!"

"How do you know? Don’t tell anyone. I’ve sold myself to him. It’s not good if others know about it."

"Why do you say that?"

Seeing her shaking her head, Bruce reached out to hold her head, and his gaze fell on Hilla’s face.

Hilla blinked her eyes. The figures in front of her overlapped each other after she got drunk. She seemed to be floating in the air and moving uncontrollably.

Looking into the man’s eyes, Hilla laughed and said, "I can’t let anyone know that I’m married so that no one will know if I’m divorced in the future. Do you think I’m smart?"

"You still want a divorce?"

What was she thinking about?

Bruce brought the milk to her and said, "Drink the milk first."

Hilla finished a glass of milk, then pointed at her little face and asked, "Am I a good girl?"

"Good, very good."

"My dad says this too. Are you my dad?"

Bruce looked at the smiling face and could not help but rub his forehead. Was he that old?

Rubbing the hair of Hilla, Bruce asked, "Hilla, tell me. Why do you want to divorce?"

Didn’t the Anderson family and he treat her well? Or was she really angry about what happened today?

When he thought of Julian’s attitude towards Hilla, Bruce’s face sank.

He now felt that his emotion was so changeable, and he always changed because of Hilla.

He would care about everything about her, her words, and her thoughts.

As a mature middle-aged man in his thirties, when did he become so impulsive?

"Because ... I won’t tell you!"

Hilla covered her lips and smiled like a cunning fox.

She reached out to pat Bruce on the shoulder and asked seriously, "Are you angry?"

He was more than just angry. Didn’t she see that he was so angry that he didn’t want to talk to her?

Bruce frowned and picked up the quilt from the bed and wrapped it around Hilla. Then he said helplessly, "Sleep now. Don’t drink so much next time."

"Why not? It was you who asked me to drink and let me see my ex-boyfriend. Bruce, are you jealous? You must be jealous. I can tell that!"

Just now, she said she didn’t know the man in front of her. But now, she knew him very well. Bruce frowned as he stared at the woman in front of him. He wondered if she was really drunk, or she was lying to him.

However, before he could figure it out, Hilla had pounced on him. Like a cat, she began to sniff his body. She also muttered at the same time, "You smell good. Are you Bruce?"

It seemed that she wasn’t in her right mind due to drinking. Bruce had a cold expression on his face. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was late at night, he would have dragged Horton over to ask him what he had done.

He asked Horton to bring Hilla to see Julian. Did he mention anything that Hilla could drink?

"Why are you still moving? Why are you grabbing my hand? Are you teasing me?"

Hilla kept moving on Bruce’s body, and Bruce could only subconsciously dodge. His face was already as dark as the bottom of the pot.

The woman was seriously drunk, but he didn’t know what to do with her. That she could become like this was all because of him. He could only persuade her, "Stop, Hilla.

"Be a good girl. Stop, Hilla."

As expected, he was punished for his own sake.

It was supposed to be a good thing with Hilla in his arms, but for the current situation, it was simply torturing for Bruce because Hilla was moving around like a crab in his arms.

He had removed her hands, but soon Hilla would pounce on him in an instant, and his resistance had been regarded as teasing.

"Stop, Bruce. Are you Bruce or not? Why are you always trying to grab me? You’re not Bruce. What are you trying to do to me?"

Hilla was like a television, the channel of which would change at any time. Before Bruce could find the law, she would immediately turn into another channel.

Hilla, who was about to pounce on him, now had her hands in front of her body and shrunk by the bed. She looked at him vigilantly.

Her eyes were dark and innocent. In front of Bruce, she looked like a pitiful white rabbit.

As she spoke, she retreated to the side of the bed. At the same time, she muttered, "Bruce is in a vegetative state. He can’t speak or move. You’re not Bruce, not my husband!"

Hilla looked at the man in front of him vigilantly, and she still tried to retreat to the edge of the bed. Her pitiful appearance made Bruce speechless for a moment.

"Hilla, don’t retreat anymore. You will fall..."

Before Bruce could finish speaking, Hilla had retreated to the edge of the bed, and she was about to fall off.

Bruce was shocked. He quickly reached out his hand and pulled Hilla up just a second before Hilla fell off the bed.

Hilla crashed into Bruce’s arms. Her head hit his chest. She was that smart and now, because of the collision, she felt even dizzier. She also felt uncomfortable due to the sudden shaking.

"Are you alright? Did you get hurt?"

Bruce pulled Hilla into his arms and he sounded worried. The hot breath swept across Hilla’s ear, making her feel itchy.

Hilla, who was in his arms, frowned and covered her nose and mouth. She looked at him with tears. "Bruce, I want to vomit."

"Hilla, don’t..."

Hilla’s movements were always faster than what he expected. The next second, Hilla had vomited all over him.

Along with the fishy smell of fresh milk that she had just drunk, the whole room didn’t smell good now.

Bruce’s dark and cold face could no longer stop the little girl in front of him.

After vomiting, Hilla looked up and showed a silly smile to Bruce, "So comfortable!"

She was now comfortable, but Mr. Anderson, who had mysophobia, was about to go crazy.

Taking a deep breath, Bruce put Hilla on the bed, threw away the quilt that had been dirty, and slowly got off the bed.

Before leaving, he didn’t forget to remind Hilla on the bed, "Stay on the bed and don’t run around."

Hilla, who was lying on the bed, narrowed her eyes and chuckled. "Bruce, you’re so tall. You can walk!"

...

Hilla rolled around on the bed and hugged her pillow. When she heard Bruce’s voice, she barely opened her eyes.

"I’ll stay on the bed and don’t go anywhere!"

She had caused enough trouble to others. Now, she suddenly knew to be a good girl.

Bruce frowned, ignored the strong smell on his body, and suppressed the discomfort.

He quickly entered the bathroom.

Hilla shook her body with the pillow in her arms. Narrowing her eyes, she blinked and muttered, "Why is Bruce so tall? He’s walking so fast. Why can he suddenly walk?"

"Yes, I must have drunk too much. I must be dreaming."

The person on the bed muttered to herself, and then fell asleep.

Bruce came out of the bathroom half an hour later.

When he smelled the unpleasant smell in the room, he first frowned. When the faint fragrance drifted into the room, everything had been cleaned up. Bruce took out a new quilt and went to bed. The woman on the bed immediately rolled over.

"Hilla, wake up. Go take a bath before you sleep."

Just now, he had only thought that she could quickly settle down, but now Bruce had just found that Hilla’s smell of alcohol could almost kill him.

However, the person on the bed had fallen asleep. No matter how he pulled her, she lay on the bed motionlessly.

Annoyed by Bruce, she suddenly sat up from the bed and pointed at Bruce’s nose. "You bastard! How dare you disturb me while I’m sleeping? Don’t you know that sleeping late will affect my physical development? Do you have any conscience?"

Bruce looked at the slovenly woman in front of him. He frowned and stood up, "Hilla, go and take a bath."

As soon as he touched her sleeve, Hilla stuck to him like an octopus and hugged his waist. "You carry me there."

"Hilla, can you stop being like this?"

Bruce stood by the bed. Hilla wrapped her arms around his waist, and her face was pressed against his lower abdomen. No matter how he pushed her, he could not push her away.

Bruce’s dark and handsome face became more and more strange. In the end, it seemed that he blushed.

His words didn’t affect Hilla. Not only did the woman in his arms not let go, she even hugged him tighter.

"I want daddy to carry me."

"Hilla, I am not your father."

Bruce had been so handsome since he was a kid. For the first time, he hated the age difference between him and Hilla.

Hilla finally let go of him and sat on the bed. She looked up and blinked her eyes as if she was trying to see the person in front of her. She suddenly laughed, "I know you’re not my dad. I’m going to take a shower. Take off my clothes."

She was so drunk and unbridled.

"Hilla, did you get drunk before?"

"If you get drunk in front of other men, I will not spare you," Bruce thought to himself.

Hilla shook his head and said with a smile, "No!"

The man smiled in satisfaction. "Remember. You are not allowed to drink outside next time. You can’t drink at home either. You can’t get drunk in front of anyone but me."

Hilla nodded, revealing a bright smile. "Alright!"

As soon as she said that, she fell to the bed and continued to sleep.

In the quiet room, only the woman’s breathing could be heard. Bruce stood by the bed and watched her. After a long while, he sighed. A smile touched his lips. He bent down and undid her clothes.

Hilla woke up in the afternoon of the next day. She felt so dizzy and light-headed.

She felt uncomfortable because she was drunk last night.

The only impression she had in her mind was that she tried to get drunk yesterday to avoid the awkwardness when she was with Julian.

She had no idea of how she returned home.

Frowning, Hilla got up from the bed and walked to the bathroom.

She had to think about how she returned and what happened after she returned.

After washing up, Hilla still couldn’t recall what had happened last night. It was as if she had lost that part of the memory. The impression in her mind was incomplete.

As soon as she left the bathroom, the bedroom door opened. Bruce sat on the wheelchair and was pushed in by a servant.

His legs were covered with a thick blanket and he was dressed in heavy clothes. It looked like he had just gone out for a walk.

"You are awake."

Bruce sat in front of the door. His deep and dark eyes were cold. His gaze fell on Hilla as if he could see through her.

The servant behind Bruce left when she pushed Bruce in. Hilla stood by the bed in a daze. She rubbed her wet hair and said with embarrassment, "I’m sorry that I’m not good at drinking."

Not only was she bad at drinking, but she was like a mad woman after she got drunk. When he thought about how she had vomited all over his body, Bruce’s face darkened.

"I didn’t cause any trouble to you last night, did I?"

Hilla leaned forward and asked in a low voice. In fact, she was too bad at drinking. It was just that she drank too fast yesterday, and she didn’t eat anything at all. Before she left, she pretended to be drunk and wanted to end the awkward conversation with Julian quickly.

However, she didn’t expect that after she went out of the hotel, she would feel drunk when she was blown by the night breeze. Except for the memory that she was helped into the car by Horton, she forgot everything after that.

However, she seemed to remember that she had returned to the Anderson’s and saw Bruce.

Hilla suddenly thought of something. She grabbed the bathrobe on her body and thought of the pajamas she had thrown into the basket in the bathroom. She suddenly flushed.

If her memory was right, the clothes on her were changed by Bruce. Then wasn’t she totally exposed to Bruce?

Hilla stood where she was and her face flushed. She almost cried out.

Looking at her face which was about to cry, Bruch knew that she had thought of something. He rubbed his eyebrows and said, "I changed it with my eyes closed. I didn’t see anything."

"With my eyes closed..." Did he mean that he touched all over her body?

Hilla stood there and shivered. She turned around angrily with his face red. Then she stomped on the floor hard.

She didn’t know how to face him. Her body had been touched by this man.

However, although Bruce had touched her, she couldn’t say anything to blame him. The more she thought about it, the angrier she felt. She couldn’t help but think about it.

The incomplete images in her mind were flashing in front of her mind.

If the images in her brain were real, then didn’t that mean that the Bruce who could walk was also real?

She thought of Bruce’s back when he went to the bathroom. He was tall and straight, and his footsteps were steady. He looked so handsome. He did not look like someone who had a problem with his legs.

Hilla frowned and slowly turned around. She looked at Bruce, who was still sitting in

the wheelchair, and asked suspiciously, "Have your legs recovered?"