A marriage certificate truly possesses a certain magic; once it's signed, the act of a man and woman sleeping in the same bed becomes legal, moral, and perfectly reasonable.
Diana Bell said nothing more, calmly accepting William Knight's request to sleep together. However, she still wasn't quite used to being continuously pressed against by a man...
Penelope had even suggested she book an appointment for William at a men's clinic, but that seemed entirely unnecessary. He was clearly in high spirits. They hadn't even done anything—just held each other—and he was already like that.
They were currently in her grandmother's room at the care center, with Catherine Archer and Noah Bell sleeping in the same room. Diana lay there, rigid and motionless, paralyzed in a side-lying position. She wasn't bold enough to start a "war" with him while two other people were present.
Those kinds of things tended to make noise...
While Diana was trying her best to keep her heart as still as water, that large hand draped across her waist suddenly began to slide downward along her curves. In the silence of the dark room, the man's breathing sounded heavy and thick with desire.
Through the dense night, William's voice rang out: "Why are you wearing trousers today?"
He added suggestively, "It's not very convenient to sleep in trousers."
The nursing cot wasn't particularly sturdy; even a gentle toss or turn would cause it to creak loudly. William was well aware of this, so he avoided making any large movements. His touch had been relatively restrained so far. Consequently, his hand fumbled around her waist for a long time, like scratching an itch through a thick boot—he couldn't find a way in.
Diana chuckled inwardly. Wearing tight denim today had been the right call.
Perhaps unsatisfied, William suddenly tightened his hold, pulling her closer into his chest. Diana's nerves stretched taut, like a tightrope walker suspended high in the air.
Before she could say anything, William's scorching breath fell against her ear: "Miss Bell, your body is so stiff. Holding you feels like holding a frozen fish."
"Mr. Knight... it's because you're holding me too tight," Diana replied.
"Is it uncomfortable?" William asked.
It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but she was worried that if she moved, his tension-filled body would spiral out of control.
"Could you loosen your grip a bit?" Diana asked.
"I can," William said, shifting slightly outward.
Diana rolled over to lie flat on her back, avoiding that constant point of contact. The bed was narrow, and their arms overlapped. Diana's slender arm was on the bottom, with William's heavy, muscular arm pressing down on her.
At that moment, their sensations were polar opposites. William marveled at how soft a girl's body could be; even the arm beneath his felt as supple as a willow branch. Diana felt the exact opposite—how could just an arm be so heavy? He was heavy, hard... it seemed every part of a man was made of solid rock.
It was impossible to sleep while being pinned down like this.
William lifted his arm slightly and placed hers on top of his. "Is this better?"
Diana let out a breath. "Yes." She nudged herself further toward the edge, creating a bit of distance.
As the night deepened, realizing that William wouldn't—and realistically couldn't—do anything more, drowsiness washed over her. Diana eventually drifted off. Once asleep, her entire body relaxed into a soft, liminal state.
William watched her by the moonlight. Her lips were slightly parted as she breathed, their color as delicate and lustrous as polished glaze. Her nose was small and upturned, and her fan-like lashes rested quietly, exuding a sense of youthful innocence.
In this moment, she was his little mermaid.
William stared at Diana for a while longer before getting up and heading to the bathroom.
In the morning, when Diana woke up, she realized she was hugging William's arm like it was a precious treasure. Why did she have this habit of clinging to his arm while sleeping? What kind of quirk was this? She had never done this before.
Taking advantage of the fact that he wasn't awake yet, she gently released his arm. Thank goodness, she thought, caught again, but he didn't notice.
Diana got out of bed and went to the bathroom to wash up. Just then, William opened his eyes and glanced at the arm she had just been holding. He got out of bed, walked to the bathroom, and pushed the door open.
Diana froze mid-brush.
William stood beside her, his arm reaching behind her waist to grab the toothpaste from the vanity. The mirror reflected the two of them standing side-by-side, each with a toothbrush in hand. A simple morning routine felt unnerving because of William's presence, and Diana's hand stopped cooperating.
Her brushing became frantic, filling the air with a rapid sh-sh-sh sound. She leaned down, took a mouthful of water, and quickly rinsed the foam away.
Not long after she stepped out, William followed. He sat across from her and, as serious as a teacher lecturing a student, said, "Your brushing technique is a bit violent. It will damage your teeth and gums. You should be gentler in the future."
Diana: "..."
That's only because you were standing right there! She didn't usually treat her teeth with such hostility.
Suddenly, her phone chimed with a notification. Diana opened WhatsApp and saw a message from William—it was a video showing children how to brush their teeth correctly.
Diana: "..."
She truly meant it when she said: "Thank you so much."
William replied solemnly, "You're very welcome."
A sleepy mumble came from across the room as the god of sleep, Noah Bell, finally woke up. When he saw William, he blurted out, "William! What are you doing here?"
William put a finger to his lips, signaling for him to be quiet and pointing toward their grandmother.
Unfortunately, Noah's shout had already woken Catherine Archer. William was the first to notice her eyes opening; he walked over and helped her sit up.
"What time is it?" Catherine asked.
"Eight in the morning," William replied.
Diana was momentarily stunned. According to William's usual routine, he would have left for work at 6:00 AM sharp, yet here he was at 8:00 AM.
William saw her surprise and explained, "I've booked an appointment with a world-renowned psychiatric expert for your grandmother today. He's coming to the care center to evaluate her."
The fact that he had been so thoughtful warmed Diana's heart like a soft cloud. A good marriage required effort from both sides, and she found herself wanting to do something for him too. Realizing he hadn't eaten yet, she turned toward the door. "Mr. Knight, I'll go buy some breakfast."
As it turned out, she didn't need to. William had already arranged for it. An assistant walked in carrying several bags, spreading a perfectly balanced, nutritious breakfast across the table.
After the meal, the psychiatric expert arrived. Following a thorough examination and evaluation, he created a personalized treatment plan for Catherine, committing to visiting the center three times a week for therapy sessions.
Diana knew that experts of this caliber were usually the ones being chased by patients. The only reason he was willing to travel to the care center was that William had pulled strings behind the scenes.
"Mr. Knight, thank you," she said sincerely.
This time, William didn't say "you're welcome." He reached out, patted her head, and said, "There's no need for thanks. Your grandmother is my grandmother too."