That evening, as Sidney was waiting for Jayson to return, she was greeted by a drunken man. The bodyguard helped him inside and handed him over to Sidney. She and the butler worked together to get him to the bed, undress him, and wipe him down. As she removed his shirt, she smelled a strong metallic scent of blood. She had smelled it on his clothes before, and it reminded her of that night.
She looked at the black shirt in her hands, noticing a dried stain that was hard to spot unless you looked closely. She then looked at him, his bare body showing no signs of injury. Where did this blood come from? The butler took the shirt from Sidney's hands, noticing her thoughtful expression. He helped cover Jayson with the blanket and turned on the heating.
Sidney's face darkened as she looked up at the butler. In that instant, the butler felt a chill run down his spine. It was a look Sidney had never shown before, and it made him uneasy.
Sidney thought for a moment before asking, "Do you wash Mr.'s clothes when they're thrown into the laundry basket, or do you send them to the cleaners?"
"I usually wash the shirts."
Sidney glanced again at the black shirt in her hand. "Mr.'s clothes often have strange blood stains, don't they?"
"I haven't noticed," the housekeeper replied in a calm tone, as though she had never seen it.
She grabbed the shirt in her hand, slightly bowed, and left the room. Sidney looked at Jayson, puzzled, wondering where he had gone that caused his clothes to be covered in blood.
The next day, when Jayson woke up with a throbbing hangover, Sidney was sitting at the edge of the bed, watching him.
He ran a hand through his hair, a soft smile playing at the corner of his lips, before reaching out to her. His fingers brushed against hers, warm and reassuring. Sidney's heart skipped a beat as he gently tugged her toward him, guiding her into the bed. She settled beside him, the warmth of his body radiating against hers. He slid his arm around her, pulling her closer, as they both sank into the soft embrace of the sheets.
"You were really drunk last night."
"A few friends were messing around."
"Drinking hurts your stomach and liver. Don't keep drinking like this."
"I know."
"You always just say 'I know,' but then you keep drinking anyway!" Sidney said, not very happy.
Jayson was already having a headache and didn't want to explain or answer her.
Sidney continued, "Do you plan to spend your life with me?"
Sidney asked him this question for the first time, like a little girl, and Jayson opened his eyes and turned his head to glance at her.
"Yeah! What's wrong?" Her sudden shift in tone left Jayson confused.
"Then you need to live longer than me! Didn't you say you wanted a child? If you keep destroying your body like this, how can you watch your child grow up?"
"You're thinking too much," Jayson smiled.
"Where did you go last night?"
"I was drinking with friends."
"Alondra, where are you?"
"At Opal Lounge. What's wrong?"
"When I changed your clothes yesterday, I found blood all over them."
Jayson looked into her eyes, and she looked back at him. The two of them were silent for a few seconds.
He finally spoke, "Really? I didn't know. Maybe I was too drunk and got something on me."
"This isn't the first time." It's too coincidental to have blood on you every time.
"I really don't remember. I'll try to be more careful next time."
"Can you promise me you won't drink like this again? I can't control what you do at work, but I really need you to look after yourself."
"I don't get drunk every day, just occasionally." Jayson felt his headache worsen from Sidney's words, so he rubbed his head harder.
"One or two times a week isn't occasional! I wait for you at the door every day, you don't know how worried I am?" Sidney said anxiously, her voice a bit louder.
"I was at Opal Lounge, where's the danger? I'll try to be more careful next time, alright?"
Sidney furrowed her brows tightly, biting her lower lip, watching him intently.
He reached out and gently rubbed her cheek, hoping to help her relax.
"I don't need you to stand up for me or buy me things. I just want you to come home before midnight. I don't want to be the one always bringing you homemade stew to the office. What I really want is for you to sit at the dinner table with me and eat together!"
