The Divorcee Amazed the World

With just one sentence, Willis successfully piqued Helena’s curiosity.

Recalling her grandmother’s words about Lily possibly being influenced by someone, she glanced at Susan, her eyes filled with intriguing thoughts.

Helena lowered her head to look at her left hand in a splint.

She was eager to know if Lily’s disappearance had any connection to Susan.Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

After waiting quietly for a while, Helena heard Willis utter a low “Hmm.”

Turning back, she picked up the first aid kit and walked toward him, asking, “Has Lily been caught?”

Willis pinched his phone, turned to look at her, and said, “She’s missing.”

“Missing?” Helena furrowed her brows slightly.

“Yes, my people searched her home and relatives’ homes thoroughly, but she wasn’t found. Her family has reported it to the police; we’ll wait for updates.”

Helena’s eyes became subtle. “Her disappearance is quite coincidental. You sent people to find her, and she immediately went missing.”

Willis sat on the sofa, legs crossed, and said indifferently, “Her brother got caught stealing from tombs. After he was arrested, unable to bear the pressure, he would surely reveal some names. Naturally, there will be people seeking revenge, so her disappearance isn’t surprising.”

Helena remained silent.

It was late at night, and she didn’t want to argue with him.

Arguing without evidence was meaningless; it would only lead to quarrels, and quarrels couldn’t solve any problems, only consume emotions.

After placing the first aid kit on the coffee table, Helena walked to his side, picked up his right hand, and carefully examined it.

His palm and fingers had several small shards of broken glass embedded in them.

She scolded, “Why are you so careless? I injured my left hand, and now you’ve injured your right hand. Injuries should come in pairs, huh?”

Willis pulled his hand back, indifferent. “Just a little skin and flesh injury. It’ll be fine in two or three days, it doesn’t hurt.”

“How can it not hurt? You’re not made of iron.”

Helena took a cotton ball, cleaned the alcohol and blood off his hand, brought a bright flashlight to inspect, and used tweezers to carefully remove the embedded glass shards.

During those years when Willis couldn’t walk, he was often in a depressed and irritable mood, frequently breaking things and getting injured. Helena had long practiced dealing with wounds-quick and skillful.

After cleaning, she applied medicine to his hand, gently advising, “Be more careful next time. If you keep injuring yourself, I’ll be angry.”

Her voice, a mix of complaint and admonishment, was softer and more soothing than the medicine.

Some of the pent-up discomfort in Willis’s heart eased a bit.

Lowering his eyes, he watched her check his hand with a gaze that gradually deepened. Still, his voice remained calm, “Didn’t we agree to have a child? Why are you taking contraceptives?”

In his expression, joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness were indistinguishable, suppressing his true emotions.

Helena was momentarily stunned, and soon her face turned slightly away. Calmly, she said, “I think we’re still young. There’s no need to rush having a child. A child isn’t a toy; it’s a life. Once born, we have to be responsible for them. Children can ease conflicts, but they can also intensify them. They can’t solve the fundamental issues.”

Willis raised a corner of his lips, his gaze fixed on her innocent and beautiful profile. Emotions flickered in his eyes, their meaning unclear. “You’re quite determined.”

Helena didn’t respond, closed the medicine box, and caught a faint scent of alcohol from him. She asked, “How much did you drink?”

“Not much.”

“I’ll make you a sobering soup.” She stood up, but Willis grabbed her wrist.

With a slight pull, he drew her into his arms, his chin rubbing against her ear as he whispered, “No need, didn’t drink much. Your hand is injured; don’t bother.”

Helena was embraced by him, her back against his broad chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart.

Normally, she would have found it warm, her heart racing, and her body warming.

But now, her heart was filled with mixed emotions. Silently for a few seconds, she said, “It’s late; go wash up and sleep.”

“Okay.”

Willis released her and stood up.

The two went upstairs and entered the bathroom.

Helena helped him remove his watch and unbutton his shirt, loosening his belt. She asked, “Do you want me to help you wash?”

“No need; my left hand still works. Just a quick rinse will do.”

“Alright.”

Helena went to the shower area, turned on the showerhead, and adjusted the water temperature for him.

Exiting, she waited quietly at the door.

This was something she had become accustomed to in the past two years.