My Past is Just Prologue (Janet and Nathaniel)

Chapter 465 You're Wearing My Shirt

With Janet's help, Nathaniel comfortably settled on the couch. He wanted to say something to improve their relationship, but he saw Janet standing up.

"Where are you going?"

Nathaniel tightly held her wrist, looking at her with an accusing gaze.

Janet pulled his hand away, wearing a speechless expression on her face.

"I'm going to get you something to eat.

Janet walked into the kitchen.

She opened the refrigerator, searching for ingredients, while behind her came Nathaniel's weak yet teasing voice.

"I feel like having pork stew."

Janet's hand, which was supporting the refrigerator door, paused.

Pork stew was one of the dishes she had specially learned to cook for Nathaniel's taste.

She tightened her grip on the knife.

Did this man even know how long it took to make pork stew?

It was already generous of her not to poison Nathaniel out of revenge! And yet, he dared to order food?

Nathaniel leaned on his side, gazing at Janet's busy figure in the kitchen, feeling unexpectedly tender inside.

This scene was something he had once possessed but had never cherished. It was now something he yearned for.

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Suddenly, he had an illusion that he was a husband who had just returned home late from socializing, and Janet was the wife waiting at home, preparing a late-night snack

for him.

The huge clock in the living room swung slowly and rhythmically, as if this dark night had no end and would go on forever.

Lost in his wonderful fantasy, Nathaniel couldn't free himself. In the meantime, Janet approached with a bowl and a plate in her hands.

She placed the items on the coffee table. "Come and eat."

Nathaniel sat up eagerly, but when he leaned over, his smile instantly faded.

There was a serving of egg custard and a plate of lettuce leaves.

Nathaniel looked at Janet, and the stark contrast between his expectations and reality made him resemble a dog that didn't receive high-quality dog food.

"Is this all there is?"

Janet crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "What else do you expect?"

He ordered pork stew, but she didn't agree to cook them!

Nathaniel picked up his fork and flicked the lettuce a couple of times, but there was no

trace of meat.

Janet pushed the bowl toward him. "If you don't want me to call an ambulance for you, just eat this."

If Nathaniel wanted to eat greasy food despite his stomachache, even if he wanted to

kill himself, Janet didn't want to bear the accusation of attempted murder.

Nathaniel held the fork over the plate of lettuce, hesitating for a moment, but eventually he put it down and picked up the custard instead.

After taking his medicine, there was no taste in his mouth, but at least the custard was a

savory dish.

He scooped up a small spoonful and tasted it, a glimmer of light appearing in Nathaniel's eyes.

The surface of the egg custard had a golden brown caramelized layer, concealing the tender and fragrant interior.

The delicate aroma of the eggs quickly spread in Nathaniel's mouth, not giving him a chance to savor it slowly. It melted in his mouth, smooth and delicious.

Nathaniel's appetite instantly surged, and in no time, he finished the egg custard

completely.

Setting the spoon aside, Nathaniel met Janet's gaze.

He swallowed. "I'm full now. I don't really have an appetite for this lettuce..."

Janet, uninterested in arguing with him, handed him a tissue to wipe off the greasy stains from his lips and motioned for him to lie down again.

"Come on, go to sleep so that I can go home," Janet urged.

To her surprise, Nathaniel didn't close his eyes but instead stared at her brazenly.

"Go change your clothes," Nathaniel pointed at Janet's chest.

Following his finger, Janet belatedly noticed the half-dried water stains on her shirt.

Janet had been too preoccupied with dealing with Nathaniel earlier that she had almost forgotten about the cold, damp feeling on her chest. It was only when Nathaniel pointed it out that Janet realized wearing the wet clothes was uncomfortable.

"My clothes are upstairs. The ones on the far left are unworn, so you can pick one to change into."

Janet hesitated. Even if the clothes were unworn, she didn't want to change into them.

They were already divorced, and here they were, a man and a woman alone together in the middle of the night, with Janet still wearing his clothes. It felt strange no matter how she looked at it.

Nathaniel seemed to sense Janet's concerns. He shifted the pillow behind his head and closed his eyes.

"Do as you please, but be careful not to dirty my couch. Dry cleaning is expensive," he

remarked.

Janet waved her fist. Nathaniel was unable to change his "princely" behavior.

After some hesitation, Janet noticed that Nathaniel's breathing had become even, indicating that he had fallen asleep. She tugged at her wet shirt, feeling the fabric cling uncomfortably to her chest. Gritting her teeth, she stood up quietly and made her way upstairs.

Once her footsteps disappeared at the top of the staircase, Nathaniel opened his eyes and smiled, his gaze fixed on the second floor.

Janet found a clean towel and wiped off the water stains on her chest. Standing in front of Nathaniel's closet, she grabbed a shirt from the pile on the far left. It was a white shirt with diagonal stripes. Janet put on the shirt, and although it was a bit looser than her oversized shirts, her slender figure allowed her to pull off a petite boyfriend look.

Janet wrinkled her nose as she caught a familiar scent of mint surrounding her.

Janet rolled up her sleeves. Wasn't Nathaniel supposed to have unworn clothes on the left side? Why was his scent still so strong?

Could it be because they were stored in the same closet?

Janet hesitated. Even if the clothes were unworn, she didn't want to change into them.

They were already divorced, and here they were, a man and a woman alone together in the middle of the night, with Janet still wearing his clothes. It felt strange no matter how she looked at it. Nathaniel seemed to sense Janet's concerns. He shifted the pillow behind his head and closed his eyes.

"Do as you please, but be careful not to dirty my couch. Dry cleaning is expensive," he remarked.

Janet waved her fist. Nathaniel was unable to change his "princely" behavior.

After some hesitation, Janet noticed.

that Nathaniel's breathing had become even, indicating that he had fallen asleep. She tugged at her wet shirt, feeling the fabric cling uncomfortably to her chest.

Gritting her teeth, she stood up quietly and made her way upstairs.

Once her footsteps disappeared at the top of the staircase, Nathaniel opened his eyes and smiled, his gaze fixed on the second floor.

Janet found a clean towel and wiped

off the water stains on her chest Standing in front of Nathaniel's closet, she grabbed a shirt from the

pile on the far left. It was a white shirt with diagonal stripes.

Janet put on the shirt, and although it was a bit looser than her oversized shirts, her slender figure allowed her to pull off a petite boyfriend look.

Janet wrinkled her nose as she caught a familiar scent of mint surrounding her.

Janet rolled up her sleeves. Wasn't Nathaniel supposed to have unworn clothes on the left side? Why was his scent still so strong?

Could it be because they were stored in the same closet?

Janet absentmindedly bunched up the dirty clothes she had taken off, unintentionally stirring them with her fingers, revealing faint pink on her knuckles.

The overwhelming fragrance on her body made it hard for Janet to ignore, and even her breathing became lighter.

When Janet returned downstairs, Nathaniel, who had seemingly fallen asleep, was now lying on his back, gazing at the ceiling.

Upon hearing Janet's footsteps, his gaze shifted towards her.

Janet paused for a moment, concealing her inner discomfort and walked over with a calm expression.

Janet sat down on the single couch next to Nathaniel, his gaze following her all the

while.

Suddenly, he chuckled. "That shirt you're wearing..."

"What about it?"

Janet replied confidently, "You offered it to me yourself. Don't tell me you want to take

it back now?"

"Not at all," Nathaniel half propped himself up, his eyes filled with interest.

"I just noticed a serious problem."

Nathaniel pretended to be regretful, which made Janet feel uneasy, like a cat on hot

bricks.

"What problem?" she asked.

Nathaniel covered his mouth and lightly coughed, with a playful gleam in his eyes. "I realized I remembered the clothes' position incorrectly. The new clothes are actually on the far right."

Janet's expression gradually stiffened, "So what I'm wearing..."

"Has been worn by me.

Nathaniel's mouth moved playfully, his eyes exuding a flirtatious charm.

"Nathaniel!" Janet clenched her teeth, tempted to drag Nathaniel down and give him a good beating. "You did it on purpose!" Nathaniel shrugged, his smile barely concealing his amusement. "I'm sick. Can't I be forgiven for being a bit confused?"

Janet's face grew incredibly dark, and she desperately wanted to rip off his shirt right then and there.

But her own clothes were already crumpled and soaked, and she couldn't bear to put them back on. Janet was furious, but Nathaniel was a patient. Taking advantage of the weak was not her style. Janet turned her face away, pretending to admire the painting on the wall, deliberately avoiding his gaze. "Janet, why won't you look at me?"

Nathaniel persisted, his tone harmless, but a triumphant smile lingering on his face.

Her attempt to remain composed while blushing ever so slightly made her look incredibly adorable.

Janet closed her eyes, practicing the art of focusing on her breath, ignoring Nathaniel's presence.

"Janet..." Nathaniel called out, relentless.

"Jill, I can't sleep. Can you tell me a story?

Chapter 465 You're Wearing My Shirt

"Or maybe you could sing a song?"

Janet didn't know what to say.

Janet thought that if she ignored Nathaniel, he would eventually find it boring and fall

asleep.

But she underestimated Nathaniel's determination and resilience. A sick person with a stomachache and fever shouldn't be able to talk for so long without getting tired, right?

"Lie down."

Janet walked to Nathaniel's head.

"What are you doing?" Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.

"Close your eyes," Janet firmly instructed, pressing her hand against his forehead

without hesitation.

Nathaniel complied and closed his eyes. As soon as he did, a pair of gentle and delicate

hands touched his temples.

The cool fingertips massaged his temples with just the right amount of pressure, relieving his soreness without causing too much pain.

Janet was actually massaging him, all in an effort to help him fall asleep?

Nathaniel lay quietly, his heart filled with warmth. It turned out that Janet still cared

about him.

Worried about his headache, Janet even gave him a massage. Did this mean their

relationship was progressing further?

Nathaniel's heart raced, and he felt an intense surge of energy, wanting nothing more

than to embrace Janet right now.

But Nathaniel knew he couldn't. It might startle Janet.

Janet continued to massage Nathaniel's forehead, her patience wearing thin.

She had learned this technique for a long time, claiming it had been passed down for centuries. Why wasn't Nathaniel falling asleep?

If Nathaniel couldn't sleep, he would surely continue to ramble, and Janet would be tempted to knock him out with a stick.

Being too violent wasn't a good idea and could lead to misunderstandings. Bending over was too painful, and squatting made her legs ache. Janet decided to bring a small stool and sat by Nathaniel's side.