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Bound By Love: The Disabled Husband

Chapter 1837
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Chapter 1837:

He picked up a glass and offered it to her. “Here,” he said, trying to sound soothing. “Have swater. Just take

a moment to cool down.”

Aileen slapped his hand away. “I don’t need water,” she retorted sharply. “And | don’t need you tellingwhat

to do. You're hardly one to talk, calling him trouble!”

DeWitt looked taken aback. “What's gotten into you? I’m on your side, and now you're lashing out at me?”

“On my side?” Aileen scoffed. “Do | look like | need your support? You're not sgallant knight. You're just a

guy who thinks too much of himself. Frankly, you're insufferable!”

DeWitt’s laugh was dry and humorless. “I knew you weren't the brightest bulb, but | never thought you'd be this

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irrational.”

“Maybe I'm not the brightest bulb,” Aileen retorted, her voice icy. “My grades are nothing special. But at least |

have morals—something you seem to have forgotten.”

DeWitt rose to his feet, his smile chilling. “You better be careful,” he warned, his voice low and menacing.

“Because if you cross me, | won't be holding back.”

DeWitt stormed off, his steps sharp, his temper sharper.

Erica’s gaze darted nervously to Aileen. “I've never seen you like this before. You weren't always so bold.”

Aileen pressed her lips together, exhaling sharply. “It’s not just you,” she admitted. “My dad keeps saying the

sthing—that I've been fierier lately.”

Erica tilted her head, studying her. “Is it because of Peyton? Ever since you two got together, you've been

glowing. And way more confident.”

Aileen blinked, fingertips grazing her cheek as if expecting to find svisible difference. “Really? | think I'm still

the same, actually.”

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Erica shook her head with a faint smile. “You don’t even realize it, do you? You've changed so much for the

better since being with him.”

“Seriously?” Aileen frowned in thought. “I hadn't noticed. I'll have to think about that.”

Meanwhile, Peyton stormed back to his booth and dropped onto it like a stone, arms crossed tight over his chest.

Seconds stretched into minutes. His patience thinned to threads.

He exploded. “Fine, just keep ignoring me!”

He tore through a six-pack, bottle after bottle, but his fury kept him sober, every swallow only sharpening the

anger.

But when the last bottle clinked empty against the table, the anger curdled into something colder. This was

pointless. With a defeated groan, he rose to his feet. Aileen could do whatever she wanted.

His steps dragged toward the entrance. Just as his fingers brushed the knob, her voice cut through the silence.

“Peyton.”

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. Knew it. She couldn't bear to let him leave. He'd won.

But he wiped the satisfaction from his face, turning with a scowl just as Aileen lunged at him. They collided hard

enough to knock him off balance, and he caught her instinctively, the pair of them collapsing to the floor.

Instinct took over, and he wrapped his arms around her, breaking the impact. His back took most of the hit, but

Aileen... she felt perfectly fine.