The Ceo’s Convict Wife by Jennifer Mike

Chapter 144

Rosalie kept deathly silent as if she were immersed in her own world. It wasn’t until the doctor attempted to extract

the album from her that she suddenly returned to her senses and gripped it tightly with both hands. “Don’t!”

“The doctor won’t be taking it away. He only wants to inspect the wound on your hand, Jonathan uttered softly.

“Rosie, hand it to me and let the doctor thoroughly check the wound on your hand. All right?”

His voice successfully caught her attention, and she fixed her eyes on him. “J-Jon,” she mumbled.

Tm right here. Tell me, what happened?”

Her lips trembled, and the tears she held back began pouring down her face again. “The photo album containing

photos of me and my mother was burnt.” she choked.

It looked like more tears poured down her face every time her thick, curly lashes trembled.

Jonathan was shocked. “So this charred booklet is Rosalie and her mother’s photo album?”

It was clear enough to Jonathan how important her mother was to her during the time he and Rosalie lived

together.,

The doctor took advantage of the opportunity to inspect Rosalie’s hands. He immediately began treating the burns,

cleaning and bandaging them up after taking a look at them.

The bruise on the back of her hand hadn’t recovered yet and was now exacerbated. Her fingertips were all

wrapped with

gauze.

Rosalie was mute throughout the process as if she couldn’t feel the pain. This made others feel even more

sympathetic toward her.

Jonathan reached for his handkerchief and used it to wipe the tears on Rosalie’s face. “Don’t cry…”

He was at a loss when faced with her tears and state of distress. While he was all-powerful in Strico, he could do

nothing about Rosalie and her mother’s photo album. He couldn’t recover it, no matter the amount of wealth he

possessed.

The only thing he was capable of at the moment was wiping her tears.

“While there are several scald wounds, they aren’t too severe. All she needs to do is avoid contact with water and

apply medicine once daily,” said the doctor.

“Will there be any after-effects?” Jonathan asked.

“All of them are just surface wounds. The nerves and muscles are unscathed, but I’m afraid it will leave some

scars.”

Jonathan couldn’t help frowning.

Rosalie insisted on holding the half-charred photo album in her arms again as soon as her hand was bandaged as if

she was clinging to her treasure.

Jonathan pursed his thin lips. He lifted Rosalie again, strode out of the emergency room, and returned to the car,

“Don’t worry about the scars. I will find an expert to remove them for you once your wounds get better,” he

assured.

Rosalie slowly raised her head, and her gaze landed on Jonathan’s face. Tears still hung on her lashes, but her eyes

seemed to recover lucidity gradually. After a while, she apologized, Tm sorry for losing self-control just now.”

She’d treated him as the Jon from the past while she was in agony and bawled her eyes out to him…

“Was the anguish too much that my mind became muddled?” Rosalie questioned internally.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You are always allowed to behave however you like with me.”

Her nose twitched, and the tears she’d held back began to fall down her cheeks once again.

“If you really feel like crying, let it all out, Rosie. His fingers gently swiped across the bottom of her eyes.

Jonathan calling her by her nickname was like a key that unlocked the bitterness and sorrow she’d suppressed,

letting them

all out.

Rosalie couldn’t restrain her emotions anymore and finally burst out wailing.

Since when had she last cried her heart out? Despite how desperately she cried and how much she shed, they’d all

been useless, as she only had herself to rely on. Tears were nothing but worthless things.

When she heard Jonathan call her Rosie, it brought to mind her mother and her younger brother, who was already

fully formed in the former’s belly, who never had the chance to call her name.

“Would I have been less lonely with true family by my side if Mom and my little brother had not passed on from the

start?” she questioned herself.

Jonathan was startled by Rosalie’s bawling. While he’d felt pity for h

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when she wept silently while biting her lip, he was now

completely at a loss.

His entire body stiffened as he took in the tears flowing down her face unceasingly. He felt as if his blood and every

single nerve had frozen.

He had never experienced such helplessness in his life. Not when his mother abandoned him and his father, nor

when his father froze to death in the snow. All he felt back then was detachment and a wry sense of tragedy.

None of it came close to the powerlessness he felt now.

In the face of the inconsolable Rosie, he felt intensely conflicted.

While he wished to alleviate her pain, his body refused to comply and was so stiff that he couldn’t do anything.

Just then, she threw herself into his arms, buried her face in his chest, and incessantly cried with all her might.

Her tears soaked the clothing material on his chest and seemed to penetrate his body, entering his bloodstream to

flow into his heart.

After a long time, Jonathan raised his stiff hand and hugged her gingerly.

She was free to let her tears out when she was in pain and depressed. But that was an exclusive privilege for him,

and no other was allowed to witness her fragile side.

His desire to have her for himself grew ever stronger as time passed.

When the car arrived at the Youngblood residence, the driver got off respectfully. On the other hand, Jonathan

remained seated in the same position where he held Rosalie in his arms so that she could cry as much as she

needed.

Rosalie’s cries finally stopped after a long time seemed to have passed. He looked down to discover that she’d

fallen asleep.

Her face was tear-streaked, her eyes were swollen, and her hands were bandaged with gauze.

She was a heart-rending sight.

All of a sudden, the phone in Rosalie’s pocket began ringing, Jonathan glanced at the screen and saw Lillian’s name

displayed as the caller ID. His brows furrowed, and he answered it.

“Hello, Rosalie. Why weren’t you home today? Are you working overtime?” Lillian’s voice sounded from the other

end of the

line.

“She’s not staying there at the moment and is now sleeping. If you need anything else, call her tomorrow,”

Jonathan lowered his voice deliberately, lest he disturb Rosalie from her slumber.