My Husband Is a Gary Stu

Chapter 897

Thirty minutes later, Armand carried Genevieve out of the shower stall. At that time, the bathtub was already filled with water.

He placed her gently in the bathtub.

Though Genevieve's arm was feeling slightly sore, she remembered the promise she had made earlier. She went to Armand's back, got to her knees, squeezed some shower gel onto his back, and began rubbing it.

The restlessness in Armand's heart returned when he felt her soft hands rubbing against his back.

Suddenly, he let out a chuckle.

Genevieve poked his back and raised a brow, asking, “What are you laughing at? Is it because of my amazing service?”

Armand said, “I thought of the time when you first took off your clothes in front of me.”

Genevieve froze for a few seconds before remembering the incident he was referring to.

That was the time when she wanted to help him shower, to thank him for bailing her out of the police station. However, he rejected her offer.

With that memory playing in her mind, she lowered her head and bit Armand on his shoulder. “You obviously wanted to bed me that time. Yet, you had to humiliate me. If you were more brutal back then, you wouldn't have me as your wife today.”

“I just didn't want you to think of other men while hugging me. I'll get jealous,” said Armand.

Genevieve raised a brow, feeling a lot better after hearing that.

When she was done with his back, she scooted to the front. Her knees hurt a little from kneeling on the porcelain bathtub. Hence, Armand let her sit on his thighs.

As she used the showerhead to wash away the foam on his chest, she saw the horizontal scar near his heart.

Coincidentally, it split the Genevieve Orsi tattoo into half.

Genevieve's smile faded, and she traced the scar. “Why does it look so dark? Why didn't you go for a scar removal surgery?”

Armand answered, “I don't want to. If I went for a scar removal surgery, the tattoo you like will be gone. Besides, I can't simply get tattoos on this area ever since I had the heart transplant surgery.”

“Then so be it. The scar looks so horrible here,” Genevieve mumbled, staring at the scar.

“It's fine. You're the only one who sees it, anyway.”

He's got scars from the gunshot wounds on his back and his chest. And now, there's another one from the heart transplant. He's so young, yet he's covered in scars.

Genevieve's nose stung. She felt bad for the pain her lover had gone through.

She lowered her head and gently kissed the scar near his heart. She did that repeatedly, pouring her affection on him.

Armand, on the other hand, felt a burning sensation in the area where she kissed. He called out hoarsely, “Darling—”

Genevieve held his face and pressed her forehead against his. “Don't call me darling all the time. Use something else. You can call me Babe, Sweetie, or Wifey. I like these better.”

However, Armand could not bring himself to use something else, for he was too used to calling her “Darling.”

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