Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption-Chapter 141: A familiar warm embrace...

Inside their room, Jessica sighed deeply as she kicked off her shoes in weariness and climbed into bed. She needed to sleep and wade off some emotions and disturbing memories.

Jessica shook her head gently, hoping to shake away the thoughts clouding her mind, but they clung stubbornly. Her heart still raced, a quiet thunder that echoed through her chest.

The image of Lady Matilda’s warm embrace and the scent of lilies—so eerily similar to her late mother’s—haunted her like a whisper from the past. Her fingers twitched slightly, the memory stirring emotions she thought she had buried long ago.

Beside her, Davis’s sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing. He had been watching her closely, silently observing every flicker of emotion that passed through her face. From the moment she shifted uncomfortably to the way her brows furrowed, he noticed it all.

"What exactly is the problem?" he asked, his voice low and filled with concern. He could no longer suppress the urge not to force out the answer from her. It there’s any wish he had; it is the wish that she have a peaceful life all round.

Jessica blinked, startled by the sudden question. She turned to him, managing a small smile though it didn’t reach her eyes. "Nothing serious," she muttered, barely above a whisper. Her voice wavered despite her best efforts, her heart hammering harder now.

But Davis wasn’t convinced. He saw the way her hand clenched around the edge of the sheet, the way she refused to meet his gaze. He didn’t press immediately for answers. "You go take a bath before you sleep." He instructed calmly making Jessica sigh in relief in hope that he is finally willing to let go.

"I will do after a brief sleep." She muttered stretching her hand to drop her phone on the nightstand.

Then suddenly, as if a storm erupted within him, his face darkened. His lips curled slightly, not in amusement but in a deep, cold fury. His voice came out like a growl, low and dangerous. "Who did this to you?"

Jessica didn’t need to follow his gaze to know what he meant. She knew he had noticed the faint bruise on her arms which had darkened. She cursed herself silently for not hiding it better. It wasn’t something she wanted him to see—not now, not ever.

She turned toward him while sitting up on the bed as she pulled herself to the edge of the bed. Reaching out and clasping his hand tightly. "Relax," she said softly, placing her other hand gently on his cheek. His skin was cold, tense. She patted him lightly, trying to bring him back from the edge. "It’s not serious."

Davis’s eyes flashed dangerously. "What.did you. just. say? Not serious?" His voice cracked slightly, like he was barely holding something in. "Jessica, tell me, how deep or wide would it have to be for you to admit you’re hurt? Should I see your bones before you admit it? Should there be blood on the floor before you tell me the truth?"

Jessica’s lips parted, stunned. She wasn’t prepared for the depth of his reaction. She had noticed his protective nature which was why she had taken time to treat it, but this—this was different. He looked like a man on the verge of unleashing hell.

"It’s alright," she said again, this time a little firmer, trying to steady both herself and him. "I was just saving an elderly woman. She nearly fell to her death and I tried holding her caught but then we both stumbled. That’s all." She explained averting her gaze from his.

But Davis didn’t look convinced. The tightness in his jaw remained. His fingers curled around her hand, not roughly, but with a desperation she hadn’t seen in him before as he took his time to study the bruise.

"Do you know what it does to me," he said, voice quieter now but no less intense, "seeing marks on you? Do you have any idea how it feels to know you were hurt and I wasn’t there to stop it?"

Jessica’s heart clenched. She hadn’t thought about it that way. For her, helping someone was instinctively. For Davis, it was vulnerability—something he wasn’t used to, something he hated.

She moved closer to him, her eyes softening. "I’m fine, Davis. Truly. It was a moment, nothing more. The woman was scared and shaky. I just acted before thinking."

He closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm within. For a few long seconds, neither of them said anything. He moved his wheelchair to the other part of the room and retrieved the first aid kit. Quickly he took care of the bruise with meticulous care.

Jessica rested her head on the headboard, letting the silence comfort her. Her thoughts drifted back again to Lady Matilda, to the warmth of her hug and the strange familiarity of her scent. The woman had looked at her like she knew her—as if she had been waiting to see her again.

The feeling had been mutual.

Jessica closed her eyes again, this time trying to sort through the strange emotions unraveling inside her. It wasn’t just about the hug. She had spent her life building walls, surviving on her own. And yet that one embrace had made her feel like a child again. Safe. Protected and loved by her parents, a feeling different for what she felt for Davis.

She hadn’t felt that way since her mother died.

Davis, sensing her mind slipping away again, gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "You’re thinking again," he said quietly.

"Tell me," he urged with a tone of finality. Jessica sighed, there is no running away from this matter.

She hesitated for a moment, her voice coming out in a low helpless tone, "The woman I helped today... she reminded me of my mother. Her scent, her warmth... everything. It was like being a little girl again, just for a second. And then it was gone."

Davis held her closer. "Maybe it wasn’t just a coincidence."

Jessica didn’t answer. She didn’t know what to believe. But one thing was certain—the hug had stirred something in her. Something long forgotten.

"Did you know much about your mom considering you are child then?" Davis asked her with his gaze boring into her contemplatively.