Chapter 23: Chapter 23: Can’t I Touch You?

Noelle Sutton got out of Wyatt Yates’s car.

After getting out, Wyatt put his hands in his trench coat pockets. His expression was gentle as he watched Noelle walk inside.

Noelle had only taken a few steps.

"Little Mute."

Wyatt Yates called out to her.

Noelle turned around.

Wyatt’s lips moved, but he changed what he was about to say to just two words: "Good night."

Smiling, Noelle signed "good night" back to him.

Wyatt stood there, stunned, watching Noelle leave.

The cigarette between Tristan Lawson’s fingers snapped.

It fell to the floor.

Sparks scattered from the lit end.

He turned off the lights in the room.

BEEP—

Noelle entered the passcode, and the door opened.

Before she could even turn on the light, a pair of strong hands pulled her inside, pinning her against the door and sealing her lips.

The faint scent of agarwood smoke mixed with cedar entered Noelle’s nostrils.

By the time she realized it was Tristan Lawson, she tried to struggle, but he had already pinned her hands and stolen her breath.

He gave her no room to resist.

Her back was pressed against the door, a chilling cold seeping into her bones.

Tristan’s kiss was aggressive, his hot gasps mingling with Noelle’s breaths.

It was as if he wanted to swallow her whole.

Tristan’s hands weren’t idle, either; they caressed the line of her waist.

The warmth of his palms stimulated Noelle’s senses.

Her body was becoming difficult to control.

She trembled uncontrollably.

She was so frantic she wanted to cry.

She couldn’t speak.

Her physical resistance was useless against his superior strength.

Seizing an opportunity, she cupped Tristan’s face with both hands.

Tristan thought she was overcome with emotion and wanted to kiss him, so he lifted his head.

SLAP—

She raised her hand and struck Tristan hard across the face.

The blow snapped Tristan’s head to the side.

Faint finger marks were left on his cheek.

The passion surging within him instantly cooled.

He reached out a long arm and switched on the room’s light.

Noelle instinctively clutched her chest, her tear-filled almond eyes staring at Tristan in anguish.

She was a mess, but aside from a few wrinkles on his suit jacket, he still looked sanctimonious and composed.

But his dark eyes held a rage that was about to ignite.

The moisture in Noelle’s eyes was about to wet her long lashes, her silence conveying a deep resentment.

After a long moment, Tristan finally spoke, his voice flat. "What, am I not allowed to touch you now?"

’He spent the night with Sophie Hughes...’

’A man and a woman, alone. Who knows what they did.’

’Besides, she was divorcing him. How could she still do something so intimate with him?’

The buttons on her blouse had been torn off.

Disheveled, she glared at Tristan indifferently, her hands signing angrily, "I told you, I want a divorce!"

Tristan shot her a cold look, the corner of his lip curling into a disdainful sneer. "Don’t test my patience."

His voice was low, but it dripped with menace.

Noelle’s lips curved into a smile, but it held a hint of ethereal detachment.

Tristan’s brow tightened.

Just then, Noelle’s phone rang. She pulled it out; it was Mrs. Miller.

She didn’t answer.

A moment later, Tristan’s phone also rang.

It was Mrs. Miller again.

Tristan answered the call.

"Sir, it’s terrible! The young master has a fever and keeps calling for his mother. I tried calling Madam, but she didn’t pick up. You need to come back right away."

"I know."

Tristan hung up and grabbed Noelle’s wrist.

"We’re going home. Joshua has a fever."

Noelle’s heart tightened, and her feet were already moving to follow Tristan out the door.

But then she remembered how much Joshua despised her...

She shook off Tristan’s hand.

Tristan’s expression darkened, and his voice turned sharp. "There’s a limit to your tantrums. Joshua is sick and calling for his mother. Are you going to abandon your own son now?"

Noelle remained unmoved.

Tristan pointed a trembling finger at Noelle, but finally dropped his hand in resignation.

He picked up his phone and started a video call with Mrs. Miller.

Mrs. Miller answered, and the camera was pointed right at Joshua.

Mrs. Miller was wiping Joshua’s forehead with a warm cloth.

Joshua’s eyes were closed in discomfort as he called out weakly, "Mommy... Mommy..."

Hearing Joshua’s faint murmurs for his mother, Noelle’s hands clenched into fists.

"Sir, I’ve already called for an ambulance. You and Madam need to hurry back."

"Mommy..."

Noelle was on the verge of tears. She didn’t need to see him to know how much pain Joshua was in.

’A child’s immune system is weak. Before the age of three, they’re especially prone to fevers.’

’Every time Joshua got sick, Noelle stayed by his side, caring for him day and night.’

’He was the child she had given birth to, the one she had raised from a tiny bundle...’

’No matter how much a son despises his mother, a mother will never despise her son.’

She couldn’t help but feel her heart soften.

Noelle quickly grabbed a change of clothes from her suitcase, put them on, and hurried out.

Tristan ended the call and followed her.

「Back at Westhill Villa.」

Noelle rushed to Joshua’s room, but her steps faltered at the doorway.

Sophie Hughes, dressed in a hospital gown, was holding Joshua in her arms, coaxing him gently. "Don’t cry, Joshua. The ambulance will be here soon..."

"SOB... I don’t like... Mommy anymore... SOB... Sophie, can you be my mommy?..."

Joshua sobbed as he spoke, tears streaming down his face.

Noelle’s face turned pale, and even her lips lost all their color.

She stumbled back two steps uncontrollably.

The sound of an ambulance siren came from outside.

Tristan came in and went straight to Joshua’s room.

Sophie looked up and said urgently, "Tristan, you’re finally back."

Sophie started to pick Joshua up.

Remembering she was injured, Tristan quickly went over, took Joshua from her arms, and turned to leave.

Sophie followed them out.

She saw Noelle, and a meaningful, provocative look flashed in her gentle eyes.

Then, pretending not to have seen Noelle, she quickened her pace to catch up with Tristan.

Noelle’s legs felt weak, and she had to brace herself against the wall to stay upright.

Mrs. Miller came out of the bedroom, saw Noelle’s pale face, and quickly steadied her.

"Madam, when did you get back?"

Mrs. Miller frowned. ’The young master called Sophie Hughes, and she rushed over from the hospital.’

’He even told Sophie that he wanted her to be his mother. I wonder if Madam overheard.’

’Sigh...’

’This is so worrying.’

Noelle took out her phone and typed a line: "Just got back."

Mrs. Miller helped Noelle to the living room to sit down and said earnestly, "Madam, now that you’re back, please don’t leave again, okay?"

’Mrs. Miller was terrified that if things continued like this, the family would fall apart.’

Mrs. Miller stood up and poured Noelle a glass of hot water.

Noelle drank half of it, and her body felt a little better.

’This family needed her less and less.’

’She had thought Joshua only disliked her because she couldn’t speak.’

’That was her flaw, and she accepted it.’

’But she never, ever imagined that Joshua would want Sophie Hughes to be his mother.’

She took out her phone and typed a line of text.