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Chapter 69: Chapter 69: As If Domestically Abused

She stood up and walked over to Ian Sterling. She lifted his chin. He tried to cover his face, but Lynn pushed his hands away, forcing him to meet her gaze.

His eyes were red-rimmed, his expression a mixture of hurt and embarrassment as teardrops fell like strings of pearls. Lynn bit her lip. She had just managed to compose herself and stop crying, but seeing him like this, she felt her nose tingle again. She started crying herself as she tried to wipe his tears away, but they just kept coming.

"Are you a little crybaby? I was only rough with you a few times. Do you really have to cry this much?"

Ian Sterling pushed her hand away and pulled her into his arms. All the fight seemed to go out of him as he leaned against her, sobbing softly, "Liar."

"Fine, I’m a liar," Lynn said, supporting his weight and coaxing him. "Don’t cry. Your eyes will get all swollen if you keep this up."

Ian grunted, wiped his face, then scooped her up and carried her back to the bedroom. He pressed her down onto the bed, buried his face in her chest, and nuzzled against her—a sequence of moves he performed with startling ease.

Lynn could only run her fingers through his hair. "Your hair is poking me," she said, exasperated.

Ian kissed her chest, then his lips closed over her, his voice muffled and hoarse. "Again, okay?"

Lynn bit her lip to stifle a gasp. ’He’s such a hypocrite,’ she thought. ’His tone is a question, but his actions leave no room for doubt.’

"Do you think... if we make too much of a racket, this place will collapse?"

Hearing this, Lynn’s eyes flew open and her whole body tensed, trembling. Ian let out a muffled grunt, then began to chuckle softly.

"Then I guess you could say we’d be dying for love."

Lynn slapped him in anger. Ian looked up at her, a picture of innocence. "I was just kidding," he said, his voice laced with hurt. "Why’d you hit me?"

He intensified his movements as he spoke. An unnatural flush colored Lynn’s cheeks, and strands of hair clung to her face.

"Stop pretending."

She tilted her chin up, struggling to keep her thoughts from being swept away by him. Her voice was so achingly sweet it nearly made Ian surrender.

Lynn gave up. She stopped trying to struggle.

’I’m just too easily fooled,’ she thought. ’My heart melts whenever he cries. Who would’ve thought that one second he could be crying so pitifully, and the next, he’d be tormenting me like this.’

Only after she had drifted in and out of consciousness several times did Ian finally release his tight grip on her waist. She lay limply on the bed, the red marks around her waist stark and obvious.

The rain finally stopped. Lynn summoned all her remaining strength, dug her fingers into Ian’s arm, and gave it a vicious twist. She only felt a bit of satisfaction when she heard him hiss in pain.

But Ian just kept laughing and held her in his arms. Lynn gritted her teeth. "Starting tomorrow, we go our separate ways!"

Then she lost consciousness, falling into a deep sleep.

When Lynn woke, she blinked, her eyes hazy. The room wasn’t the one from last night, but it looked vaguely familiar.

It took her a long time to realize she was back at Amberly Bay. She had no memory of coming here; Ian must have brought her back after she fell asleep.

She tried to roll over but was so sore and weak she could barely move. She flopped back in frustration, muttering a curse through gritted teeth.

After a long while, she finally managed to push herself up. She reached for her lower back but cried out in pain the moment her hand touched her side.

She stood in front of the bathroom mirror and turned sideways to inspect her waist. The symmetrical red marks on both sides had now turned purple. Her whole body was covered in countless marks, looking as if she’d been abused. No wonder it hurt so much.

’If Ian were here right now, I’d definitely strangle him,’ she thought. ’He probably knew that, which is why he snuck away before I woke up.’

Lynn could only change into a conservative set of loungewear. With her legs still trembling, she didn’t dare risk the stairs, so she took the elevator down.

A hot, fragrant lunch was sitting on the table, but no one was home. Ian had probably sent all the staff away. ’How did he manage to time my waking up so perfectly?’

Lynn picked up her phone and dialed. The moment the call connected, she said coldly, "Get down here!"

She hung up, tossed the phone onto the table, and set her jaw, her expression cold. She didn’t turn around even when she heard footsteps approaching from behind.

"Lynn."

Ian drew near, sinking into a half-crouch before Lynn’s knees and looking up at her with a somewhat innocent expression.

He was wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing toned forearms that bore two purplish bruises.

Lynn couldn’t resist reaching out and pinching his cheeks hard. "Don’t you dare act innocent," she said coldly. "I have way more marks than you do. Anyone who didn’t know better would think you beat me up."

Ian reached out to hug her again, but Lynn slapped his arms away forcefully. Two red prints appeared on his pale skin—symmetrical, one on each side, just like the marks on her waist. Fair’s fair.

Ian let out a couple of pained yelps for show. Lynn coolly called his bluff. "Stop pretending. I barely used any force."

Ian’s lips curled into a smile. He took Lynn’s hand, massaging it gently as he explained, "I was just worried your hand might hurt. I was yelping for you."

"I know I went a little overboard last night." He shamelessly tried to justify himself. "But that was only because you sang for me, played the piano, and comforted me. I just couldn’t hold back."

Lynn lowered her gaze to meet his. She saw his swollen eyelids and bloodshot eyes, and let out a sigh. She turned, picked up her chopsticks, and started to eat.

’Good thing I had some snacks with Chloe Clayton and Flora Fairfax at that bar before we went to the scenic overlook yesterday,’ she thought. ’Otherwise, with Ian’s boundless energy, I would’ve passed out during that first time in the car.’

Ian stood up and sat down across from her, his gaze intense. Lynn remembered how pitifully he’d cried the night before, and her heart couldn’t help but soften.

"You should put some ice on your eyes later." Her tone was harsh, but her words were laced with concern. "How did you manage to cry them into this state?"

She remembered his eyes hadn’t been this bad before she fell asleep.

Ian softly agreed but didn’t tell her why. After he had gotten what he wanted, after she had fallen asleep, he had held her tightly and wept in silence.

Lynn had a feeling she knew why, so she didn’t press him. She just said, "Where’s that medicine I asked you to get?"

Ian pressed his lips together and went to the living room to get the medicine. "I’m sorry," he said quietly.

He’d asked about it when he bought the pills. They weren’t good for women; taking them too often could affect their health.

He said guiltily, "This is the last time. I promise I’ll be careful and wear one next time."

Lynn swallowed the pill with a gulp of water, then stretched lazily and ordered Ian around.

"Carry me back to the bedroom. I need to catch up on my sleep."

Ian nodded and came over to pick her up. "I have to go home for a bit," he said as he carried her. "I can’t stay while you sleep."

Lynn hummed in assent, closing her eyes. "Starting tonight, we go our separate ways."

Ian didn’t want to, but he had already promised, so he had no choice but to agree.

Lynn lay back down on the bed and quickly fell asleep again. Ian held her hand until she was sleeping soundly, then he left.

His mother had been bombarding him with calls and texts all morning, demanding that he come home immediately.

When he arrived at Aerie Garden, his aunt—Jared Sterling’s mother—was there, along with his sister-in-law. The butler was huddled with the three women, whispering about something.

Ian frowned and cleared his throat softly, startling the four of them.

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