NovelStartChapter 1434: Why is He Still Angry?
This was a wound he got because of her, so Monica felt not only distressed but also moved.
Tristan, always sensitive, could sense her action even though he didn't look back. Her warm breath on his skin sent a tingling
sensation through him.
For a moment, Tristan was lost in thought, not minding her actions at all.
Monica carefully applied a bandage to his wound. Her fair fingers moved gently, afraid of hurting him.
He had been injured because of her. It must have happened when he jumped into the river. Thinking of this, she felt guilty. She
wished the wound was on her back instead.
The girl stared atthe treated back, falling silent for a while.
Tristan was again puzzled. When he turned to look at her, he found tears welling up in her eyes, which made his heart skip a beat.
Tears fell from Monica's eyes like glistening pearls.
Noticing Tristan's gaze, she quickly gathered her thoughts. "Sand got in my eyes," she explained, turning around to rub her eyes.
"Do you wantto blow it for you?" he half-jokingly, half-seriously asked.
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"No need, no need!" she pointed at his back, "You're done, quickly change your shirt now. Soak this one in cold water, I'll wash it
for you later!"
Hearing Tristan's footsteps, Monica felt awkward. She had just seen his bare body...
"No need for you to wash it."
"You have a wound on your back, you shouldn't move your arms too much. Washing clothes requires force, don't make your wound
bleed again." She didn't look at him, bending down to pack up the first aid kit.
Tristan took a clean shirt, put it on, and threw the blood-stained one straight into the trash can.
Monica, who was putting away the medical kit, saw this. She was angry and puzzled, "Hey! Why would you throw it away? What a
waste! Do you always live like this?"
She quickly put down the medical kit, picked up the blood-stained designer shirt from the trash can, "Being thrifty is a traditional
virtue! Haven't you heard that waste is a disgrace?"
Actually, Tristan had always been thrifty, but he didn't want her to wash the shirt.
Facing Monica's strong dissatisfaction, Tristan remained calm and walked towards her.
Monica held the shirt and looked at him, waiting to hear how this high-and-mighty CEO would explain his actions.
Tristan didn't say a word. He took the shirt from her hand and silently walked towards the bathroom.
Seeing his retreating figure, she was stunned.
Not long after, Monica heard the sound of water.
"Hey, what are you doing?" she quickly followed him, exclaiming, "Don't wash it yourself! Letdo it!"
"If you insist on washing it, I'll throw it away." Tristan stopped what he was doing, his eyes cold, and he spoke seriously.
Their eyes met, and they both held onto the shirt in the basin for a few seconds.
"But you're injured, you shouldn't exert your arms." Monica spoke patiently, "Have you ever washed clothes, being a man?"
"It's better than letting you wash it!" Tristan insisted, "Let go."
"..." Monica was intimidated by the determination in his eyes.
Why was he still angry over a shirt?
Monica was silent and finally let go.
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Tristan also averted his gaze and began to wash the shirt.
Standing by and watching him wash it himself, well, this CEO was quite handy!
A few minutes later, she watched him wash and wring the shirt all in one breath. He practiced this often, it seemed.
"I'll help you hang it." Monica took the shirt from him and turned to leave.
She found a hanger and hung the shirt by the air conditioner vent.
"Shall we go down and check on Dr. Watson?" Monica suggested.
"Okay."
Just as they were about to leave, Tristan's phone rang.
Monica turned abruptly, holding her breath!
Was it a call from Dr. Watson?
Was there news about Claire?
Tristan picked up the phone, glanced at the caller ID, and answered-
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