###Chapter 123 What Else Do You Have That I Don't Know

###Chapter 123 What Else Do You Have That I Don't Know

It's not far away. It won't take long to get there.

After going to bed and laid down, it was already one o'clock in the morning, and both of them were very tired and soon fell asleep.

At noon the next day, I had breakfast with Maisie before I went back to the villa.

It was chaotic. I didn't remember it until downstairs. I left my bag in Victory apartment and also my cell phone over there.

When I opened the door, I saw that there was no one in the living room. I estimated that Jordan Astley, a workaholic, should have gone to the company, and Mrs. Yeardly also went out.

After changing my shoes, I wanted to go to the study room to find some parenting books to read. As soon as I opened the door of the study, I was choked by the strong smell of tobacco.

It was daylight, but the curtains in the house were drawn and dark.

"Jordan?" I opened my mouth and saw a spark shining by the window.

I think he's still smoking.

I raised my hand and turned on the light. I saw that his eyes were gloomy and his face was low. "Turn it off!"

"What happened?"

I twisted my eyebrow and walked up to him. "Didn't you have a good rest last night?" I could not help frowning at the faint smell of wine. "Why are you drinking?"

He said nothing, and a pair of dark eyes fell on me and pinched out the cigarette butts in his hands. "Where did you go last night?"

"Victory apartment!" I frowned. "I told you that already yesterday!"

"Oh!" His voice was a little deep and hoarse, with a trace of obvious cruelty in his voice. "Ivelle, how many things do you have that I don't know?"

The smell of smoke in the study made me a little irritable. When he looked at me coldly, I had a headache for a moment. "What can I do that you don't know? There are only these people around me over and over again. Jordan, what do you want to know? You just need to ask, you don't have to do this!"

"What's the matter? Will you tell me when I ask?" Maybe it was because he stayed up late. His eyes were red with blood and his chin was covered with dregs of beard.

The way he looked at me looked particularly gloomy.

I really don't like this kind of ambiguity. I frowned. "Yes, just tell you if you ask me!"

He got up and the shadow covered me. "Who was the man you held at the airport yesterday?"

I froze for a moment and looked at him in disbelief. "Jordan, are you spying on me?" The nameless fire in my heart suddenly burst into flames. "Oh, Jordan, what is this? Don't I have freedom and privacy to speak of now?"

I cannot stand his suffocating eyes, I cannot help but step back, he pressed my shoulder, and said, "Why are you in a hurry to hide? You are my wife Ivelle. Should I not know your whereabouts?"

"Well, it should be. Boss Astley should do everything!" I broke free from his hands. I really didn't want to be smelled of tobacco and alcohol here.

Before he got out of the study room, my hand was held by him and wrapped in his arms. "Don't you want to explain?"

I hated this feeling of no privacy. I was so angry that I said, "Explain what? As Boss Astley saw, I went to see the person I like and spent the night with him in the hotel."

Looking back at him, I opened my mouth and said indifferently, "If Boss Fu is satisfied with this explanation, can you let me go? There's too much smoke here. I don't like it!"

Jordan Astley's eyes were getting heavy, gloomy and dreadful. "Ivelle, I want to hear the truth!"

"That's the truth! That's what you always want to hear! If you trust me enough, you won't be able to follow and monitor me."

His hand fell on my waist and tightened because of anger. "It seems that there is no need for us to continue to talk."

As he spoke like an angry beast, he pressed me ungently between the wall and him and began to rudely tear my clothes.

He hurt me so much that I took a breath and was silent, allowing him to retaliate against his aggression.

After a while, his breath was a little heavy, and his body reacted. He stopped and his eyes were fixed on me. "What does it have to do with him?"

Obviously, he still has a trace of reason.

I hated the smell of tobacco around me, so I frowned and looked at him coldly. "I told you, and you believe me?"

He nodded, and his dark eyes were deep that I could not understand.

"My friend from college, he came to Hempstead on business. I just went to pick him up!" I didn't mention the illness. What I can't write down in black and white is meaningless, but it seems hypocritical.

He bowed his head and whispered on my lips, "Is this still me?" He put his hand on my heart.

As soon as my throat was blocked, I opened my mouth and said in a very low voice, "It's you, it's always been you!"

He raised the tip of his finger and landed on my chin, his eyes facing each other, he made no secret of the longing in his eyes, bowed his head, and fell with a heavy kiss.

Feeling a little upset, he grabbed me and said, "Go to the bathroom!"

The shadow on his eyebrows was a little heavier, and I pursed my lips and felt unspeakably depressed. It was a disease that I couldn't talk to anyone about.

"Good!"

He opened his mouth, hugged me inside the bathroom, several times down. He may be uncomfortable because his breath was a little heavy, and he was leaning me against the wall, with his slender body half squatted down.

I was surprised. I took his hand and shook my head. "Jordan, no." All right!

......

He lowered me, his voice a little hoarse, "Good, let's try, you can't always rely on water!"

I shook my head and said, "No!"

Seeing that I was adamant, he stopped going on.

"Be patient again!"

I bit my lip, a little disgusted, "Jordan Astley, stop!"

It's really hard. It's better not to do it.

While I was talking, I had pushed him away and saw that he had not had enough fun in his eyes.

I felt an endless sense of frustration for a moment. I looked at him and said, "I'm sorry, I. Go and find Nicole Blakely!"

This is true. It seemed that even the most basic marital life can no longer be carried on between him and me.

No one can accept such a marriage.

Without looking at his face, I went straight back to the bedroom, washed it briefly, then went to bed, and my heart was in a mess.

It wasn't long before he followed, and the water in the bathroom sounded, and it took him about an hour to come out.

Wiping the water off his body, he lay next to me and fished me in his arms, his voice a little hoarse. "After giving birth, let's go to see a doctor!"

I was silent and my heart was choked up.

"What if it can't be cured?" This is a mental illness, not a physical one.

He clasped my hand and said, "It will be cured!"

There was a long silence in the bedroom, and for a long time I heard the shallow sound of breathing and he fell asleep.

I lay in bed, unable to sleep, thinking that it might be possible to talk to Jon about it.