The Royal Contract

Chapter 1259: A blank canvas

He tried to stay away to give her time to adjust to her new life. But every minute he was away from her was worse than dying. He felt like she was slipping away. Frankly, he was afraid to lose her forever.

"No, that was not happening." He just could not let it happen without doing something about it. He did not want to mope inside his apartment and sulk at work.

He had to do something.

"Damn it!" He guessed he did not think this through, as somehow, his feet dragged him out of his bed.

Then, the next thing he knew, he had driven in the middle of the night and parked on the side of the dark pavement, watching the apartment across the street like a Goddamn stalker.

It was bad enough that he had driven late at night to bring her stuff. He could not do that again. He realized that he was only making things worse for him.

"I will be back." But next time, he would have a plan. He drove away before someone noticed that he had been stalking their place.

When Roseann called that morning, informing him that she was going back to work. He knew it was his chance. He would pretend to be in the vicinity and invite her for lunch.

He would be the perfect gentleman, and she would not have any reason to turn him down. What could go wrong?

Thud! Crash!

"Rosella!" He mumbled as soon as he heard the unusual noise inside the apartment. He was about to knock on the door but decided otherwise.

He tried the door, but the knob would not open. Then, he remembered that Roseann kept a spare key on the top right side of the door jam in case she locked herself outside.

Bingo! He found it. Without wasting another second, he barged into the room, searching the small apartment until his eyes found her.

"What is going on here?" He immediately asked as he moved closer until he found the source of the loud crash.

But that was not all, as he immediately walked toward her and attended to her wounds. There was one big cut and some small ones.

Fortunately, after careful inspection, he concluded that her wound would not need stitching. It just needed some cleaning, medication, and a plaster.

"You seem to know much about treating an injury," Rosella commented as she watched him move with precision.

It was not a big deal, but he had some experience in first aid. "But that is all I know." He could not claim to know more.

"I would rather deal with court cases than blood." He added. He might be a big guy, but he never liked the sight of blood. It was why he opted to become a lawyer than in the medical field.

"I guess I can understand that. I don't know how Roseann manages to deal with it every single day." Rosella remarked as she watched him clean up the mess she had made.

"Leave that. I can do that myself." She jumped down from the stool to help him, but suddenly, she grimaced in pain when she put pressure on her foot.

He quickly left the broken glasses on the floor to help her. Instinctively, he put his arms around her waist to carry her weight, helping her back to her seat.

"Don't worry. I can handle this. Just rest your feet for a while." He suggested, knowing that it might still hurt for a while while the wound was still fresh.

"But..." She was about to protest, not agreeing with his plan.

He could see she was internally debating with herself, but he was not backing down. He was here to assure her safety. He already failed when he did not arrive in time. He would not let that happen again.

"No, buts. You need to listen to me before your foot worsens." He instructed that she should not put pressure on it just yet. "Maybe you will be better off on the couch so you can rest it properly."

Without waiting for a response, he scooped her in his arms as if she weighed nothing. But honestly, she had turned too skinny that she felt paper thin.

He guessed that was one more thing he would need to address. Rosella had to regain the weight she had lost, together with her memories.

"Thanks, David." She protested at first, but she was no match for him. In the end, she just accepted that she was powerless. But, of course, he was not about to take advantage of that.

"Let me finish cleaning." He moved around the kitchen until he found the broom and the pan. "Do you need anything? I am here, so you might as well use me." He offered.

"I was about to make some tea. Do you know how?" Rosella finally conceded, accepting his help.

He was glad that she seemed to trust him. At least she was finally tolerating his presence. She appeared more relaxed and less jumpy, especially when he touched her and carried her.

It was a small step, but he believed it was a massive improvement. He guessed that was progress in their relationship.

"I think I can do that." He responded with positivity. He had seen her do it a thousand times before. Therefore, he was confident he could do this with flying colors.

He first took two cups from the upper cupboard. Then, he heated some water on the teapot. "Where do you think Roseann kept her tea?"

He looked at the middle cupboard, but it was not there. He checked the other cabinets, but still, there was no sign of the herbal drink.

"I do not know." She suddenly smiled, shrugging her shoulders. "I just assumed that she had tea in the cabinets."

"I did not have time to check. Since I moved in with Roseann, she had been handling me with kid's gloves." Rosella complained, saying her sister waited on her hand and foot.

That sounded like Roseann. She could be stubborn as a pig and would not take no for an answer. She would do everything if she could, especially for her sister.

"Based on what I remember about Roseann, she was more of a coffee drinker," David answered, giving up on finding the tea they needed.

For someone in the medical field, Roseann had many unhealthy lifestyles. But he guessed she was still young. She still had time to change her ways.

But Rosella had always been different. She hardly drank alcoholic beverages, usually ate healthily, choosing her food wisely. And she did not have many unhealthy habits, unlike him.

"I guess you know my sister more than me." She dishearteningly concluded.

He could understand her frustration. He forgot that it was her birthday at one point in their relationship. And he could not stop beating himself up for it.

What more when she forgot all about her family, friends, and him? He could not even put himself in her shoes. He had no idea what she might be feeling.

He could only imagine staring at a blank canvas. Everybody could see how beautiful it was, but he could not see the picture.