Bringing the Nation's Husband Home II

XXXII | Goodbye, my youth, goodbye, my love.

Alexander lay next to Isabelle for a long while, taking deep breaths before finally getting his senses back from the afterglow. He reached out to wipe the sweat off her long hair before lowering his head to lightly kiss her forehead. Turning back to his side of the bed, he reached out to bring her into his embrace and shut his eyes.

When Isabelle finally heard his breathing turn deep and long, she slowly opened her eyes to touch her forehead, where he had just kissed. Even though a long while had passed and it was already cold, she seemed to be able to feel warmth, but deep inside, her heart had turned to frost, her mind filled with the image of his signature on the abortion form. Her eyes started to fog, and in the end, she could no longer hold it in, the tears streaming down her face.

~*~

The next morning, when Alexander woke up, he could feel his entire body aching, but he felt satisfied and ready for anything that awaited him. He turned and realized that Isabelle was not around. Without even bothering to wash up, he ran downstairs.

"Madam Mary! Madam Mary!"

Just then, the kitchen door flew open and Isabelle walked out. Her long hair was tied up and an apron was tied around her waist as she held onto a spatula.

Alexander froze. "Where's Madam Mary?"

"Madam Mary had something on at home," Isabelle replied before running back into the kitchen to lower the fire. She stuck her head out once again. "I made breakfast, you can come have some after washing up."

She made breakfast?

Alexander looked at the kitchen incredulously before running back up in anticipation. He took a quick shower, dried himself, and changed in record time, then swiftly went to the dinning area. Isabelle stood beside the dinning table, scooping porridge. Alexander stood motionlessly while looking at her, mesmerized.

Isabelle seemed to have sensed him. She raised her head and smiled lightly towards him. "Sit."

Alexander walked to the dinning table silently. The table was filled with dishes that weren't meant for breakfast. He looked towards her questioningly. "You made all these?"

Isabelle placed the bowl of porridge in front of him. "It's the first time I made it, so I'm not sure if it's nice."

Alexander paused momentarily. Just when he was about to have a taste, he noticed a tissue she had on her hand. There was blood oozing out of it. He stood up abruptly, grabbing onto her hand. "You're injured?"

"It's fine, I cut it while I was cutting the vegetables." Isabelle tried to hide her hands instinctively.

Alexander frowned. He cautiously removed the tissue. When he saw the cut, his frown deepened and he left the dinning area.

He was back in an instance with antiseptic and a plaster in his hands. He knelt in front of her chair and took hold of her hand. Using the antiseptic, he first disinfected the wound then carefully covered it with the plaster. "If Madam Mary isn't around, you can call for delivery. Don't ever cook again."

Isabelle lowered her head to look as he treated her wound with seriousness. She looked away, for her eyes started to sting, tears threatening to form.

Only after he covered her wound with a plaster did he stand up. Isabelle hurriedly took in a couple deep breaths, suppressing her unstable emotions, turning to face Alexander with a smile. "Lets eat, it's going to get cold."

"Yea," Alexander agreed lightly. He raised his hand to ruffle her hair, tossing the cotton wool he had used into the bin before retrieving a wet tissue to clean his hands. Returning back to his seat, he took up the chopsticks.