My Husband Was Gone for Three Years, and Both My Mother-in-Law and I Got Pregnant Chapter 03

My Husband Was Gone for Three Years, and Both My Mother-in-Law and I Got Pregnant Chapter 03

That night, the floating comments appeared again while I was showering.

They gave me a live update on Kevin and Amelia’s romantic life.

[Amelia’s so bold. She just walked right into the bathroom with his towel.]

[She’s the female lead. What’s the big deal? Kevin will belong to her eventually. Besides, he didn’t exactly tell her to leave.]

[His mouth didn’t say anything, but another part of him said plenty.]

The comments knew everything.

They predicted the future.

They were also, apparently, very invested in my husband’s love life.

I still had no idea who was sending them or why I could see them.

They appeared only when the original storyline reached an important turning point. Between those moments, they vanished completely.

For now, they were useful.

I was staring at the comments when my foot slipped.

My body slammed against the edge of the bathtub, and a sharp pain shot through my ankle.

“Dylan, are you free? I need your help.”

I called him.

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang.

“Alison? Are you home?”

Dylan walked through the house calling for me when he couldn’t find me.

“I fell in the bathroom…”

“What do we do? Should I find a female neighbor to help you?”

At the time, I still thought Dylan was the upright one in the Harris family.

“None of the neighbors are home. Dylan, just close your eyes and pretend you didn’t see anything.”

“My ankle’s twisted. It hurts so much.”

I let out the most dramatic cry I could manage.

With his back to the bathroom, Dylan pushed a towel through the crack in the door.

“Here’s a towel. I already called 911.”

He immediately turned away.

I wrapped myself in the towel, hopped to the door on one foot, and opened it.

Dylan squeezed his eyes shut at once.

“I hit my arm too. I can’t use it properly. Can you help me get dressed?”

His face turned bright red.

“Uh… okay.”

Still refusing to look at me, he fumbled a nightgown over my head and carefully pulled it down. His head remained turned the entire time, his eyelashes trembling.

The paramedics arrived and took me to the hospital.

X-rays showed no fracture, only a severe sprain. The doctor fitted me with a walking boot and told me to stay off the ankle for at least two weeks.

That same night, I had Dylan bring me home.

“Alison, since your ankle’s injured, should I ask Mom to come take care of you?” Dylan asked as he carried me to bed.

I looped my arms around his neck and breathed softly against his ear.

“Margaret’s getting older. What if she trips and hurts herself coming back and forth?”

“Why don’t you take care of me for a while instead?”