Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption-Chapter 175: Anger

The car slowly pulled away from the hospital while Jessica fell asleep. As much as she may not admit it, this moment—resting in his arms—was her safe haven. Here, she didn’t have to worry about anything else.

Davis sighed as he looked down at the quiet woman in his arms. He couldn’t help but wonder how exhausting her day must have been.

"I wish I could be on my feet and take over most of her responsibilities, just so she can rest a bit," he thought.

"Matt, slow down a little, but be careful," Davis instructed.

Matt nodded, took a quick glance at them, shook his head slightly, and continued driving.

A journey that should have taken about an hour ended up taking two. By the time they pulled up to the mansion, the sun had already set, and night had started to creep in.

"Baby, babe, can you wake up?" Davis called softly. He couldn’t help blaming his legs for being useless at this moment.

Jessica stirred slightly, opening her eyes and looking around, trying to remember what had happened.

Her eyes widened as she realized she had been asleep, lying across his legs with a blanket over her. The air conditioning had also been adjusted for her comfort.

"No wonder it felt so comfortable," she murmured.

"We’re home," Davis said gently when he saw that she was fully awake.

Jessica rubbed her forehead and frowned. "You shouldn’t have let me rest on your legs. That’s straining and overworking them," she scolded.

Though she was touched by his concern, she knew that resting on his legs for two hours was almost like going through therapy—but more painful. He could go numb.

Seeing her serious face, Davis gave a small smile. "You’re not heavy. Why would it strain my legs?"

Jessica blushed at his words. "Did he really just say I’m not heavy?" she thought.

"What? Are you surprised? Want me to carry you next time?" he teased with a smirk.

"Davis Allen! You’re impossible!" she nearly shouted.

"Alright, alright—you’re just moderately heavy," he said, chuckling. "But really, I don’t feel like my legs were overexerted."

Jessica shook her head and stayed quiet. She knew there was no winning an argument with him. Right now, all she wanted was a good, warm dinner.

She nudged Davis, signaling it was time to get out of the car. Over time, they had figured out a careful way for him to alight without straining his legs or feeling pain.

She got out from the other side and helped him as they entered the mansion. The staff welcomed them respectfully.

Back in the bedroom, Jessica sighed heavily and quickly told Davis to get ready for his therapy session.

Davis, in fact, was more eager than ever to recover before Desmond could carry out his schemes. While Jessica had been away, he had been practicing on his own.

"You don’t need to worry," Davis said with a smile. "I already did some sessions by myself. You just need to check my nerves and see if there’s a need to adjust my medication."

Jessica was surprised. She hadn’t expected him to do therapy by himself.

"I hope you didn’t push your leg too hard," she said, glancing at him.

When she mentioned "pushing too hard," Davis looked away. Jessica immediately caught the meaning.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" she asked firmly.

Davis shook his head, but Jessica’s clenched fists said it all—she was angry.

He reached out and gently held her hand, his gaze sincere. "Baby, please don’t be angry," he said quietly.

"Don’t be angry? Do you even understand the risk of forcing your leg before it heals? One mistake, and all our efforts go to waste! Why are you in such a rush?" she said, her voice trembling with frustration.

She wanted to say more, but stopped herself. With a cold glare, she walked out of the room.

Davis sat in silence, her words echoing in his mind. He only wanted to try harder—to see how far he could go. He didn’t think it would upset her so much.

In the one year they’d lived together, this was the first time she had really lashed out in anger. It was also the first time he saw her lose control like that.

Rubbing his temple, he sighed deeply. He couldn’t lie to her, not even to make things easier. She’d always find out anyway.

Feeling frustrated, he wheeled himself out of the room. But this had never happened before, and he wasn’t sure where to find her.

Then he remembered one place—her quiet spot. She always said she went there to recharge whenever she felt overwhelmed.

He wheeled himself to the gym at the far end of the hallway and found her punching a sandbag furiously.

His heart tightened. "Maybe it would’ve been better if she’d punched me instead," he thought.

Slowly, he moved toward her and gently pushed the punching bag aside. But he underestimated her reflexes.

Her punch stopped just inches from his face. He opened his eyes slowly when the expected blow didn’t come.

Their eyes met.

"Do you really want me to punch you that badly?" Jessica asked coldly, throwing off her gloves in frustration before turning to walk away.

Davis caught her hand. "Anger isn’t good for the body, you know," he said with a small smile.

"That’s for me to decide," she snapped.

"Okay, I won’t interfere. But can you please not be angry anymore? I promise—I tried it today, but I won’t do it again," he said softly.

"You won’t try again? Men and their promises," she said coldly.

"Have you been dealing with men lately?" he asked, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Yes, and you’re one of them," she shot back.

His face darkened slightly, but he knew he had crossed the line.

"I won’t try again because... I already hurt my arm from the fall," he admitted.

Jessica’s head snapped toward him, her face filled with worry. "You’re hurt? Let me see," she said, quickly moving closer.

Davis didn’t expect the word "hurt" to change her mood so fast. Her concern melted away all the tension, and his heart fluttered at her reaction.

Jessica gently examined Davis’s arm, her fingers brushing over the deepening bruise that had already turned a dark shade. The sight made her heart ache.

She turned to Davis, her eyes sharp with concern, and snapped, "Davis, what if that had been your head instead?"

Her voice was tight, laced with frustration and worry. The thought alone made her head throb.

"I managed to twist my body just in time. Didn’t hit my head," Davis said with a small smirk, clearly proud of himself.

Jessica narrowed her eyes at him, glaring for a moment before rolling them. "Serves you right," she muttered with a smirk of her own, then turned and walked out of the gym.

Davis let out a quiet chuckle. Her voice was back to its usual self—and that was all that mattered to him.