The outside lights were turned off, leaving only a dim floor lamp on, casting a soft and warm light.
Owen Moreland must have fallen asleep, his eyelids lightly closed, his handsome face obscured in the dim light, yet still captivating.
Amelia Clarke asked two servants to sleep in the rest area while she made do with resting on the sofa beside the hospital bed. That way, if Owen needed help during the night, she could hear him in time.
She didn't want anyone else to help Owen go to the toilet.
The thought that someone else might have helped Owen to the bathroom before tonight made her heart sour with discomfort.
Amelia took a spare blanket from the closet and slept on the sofa still fully clothed.
Perhaps she was exhausted, she soon fell asleep.
As soon as steady breathing came from her, Owen suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze thoughtful.
He slowly sat up and reached for his phone on the bedside table showing the time—it was eleven at night.
