Home I Married the President Chapter 393: No Matter How Busy I Am, I Can’t Let You Be Sick at Home Alone

I Married the President

Chapter 393: No Matter How Busy I Am, I Can’t Let You Be Sick at Home Alone
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Chapter 393: Chapter 393: No Matter How Busy I Am, I Can’t Let You Be Sick at Home Alone

Claire Sinclair had thought it through, so she didn’t let the online vitriol get to her. She lay languidly in bed, her thoughts drifting to a certain someone. ’He should be back soon, right?’

Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep again.

In a hazy state between sleep and wakefulness, Claire Sinclair felt her body grow light. A familiar, soft voice murmured by her ear, "Claire?"

Claire Sinclair groggily opened her eyes. As her vision slowly sharpened, she could finally make out his face. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Mr. Quincy..."

Adrian Quincy placed his large hand on her forehead, and his brow furrowed instantly. "You’re a little warm. I’ll go get you some fever medicine."

"Okay." Claire Sinclair sat up and watched him leave. Her heavy head already seemed to ache a little less.

After a short wait, Adrian Quincy returned with fever medicine and a cooling patch and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Take the medicine first. I’ll make you something to eat afterward."

"Okay." Claire Sinclair nodded obediently.

While she took the medicine, Adrian Quincy applied the cooling patch to her forehead.

The cool sensation seeped into her, soon turning into a comforting warmth.

Noticing the edges of the patch were peeling up slightly, Adrian Quincy pressed them down with his finger. "Don’t leave the cooling patch on for too long. You can take it off once your headache is gone."

"Mm-hm!" Being sick, Claire Sinclair didn’t have much energy and didn’t feel like talking.

Adrian Quincy gave her a light kiss on the lips before getting up and leaving the room.

Claire Sinclair picked up her phone and checked the time. It turned out she had only been asleep for less than half an hour. ’He got back so fast.’

About half an hour later, Adrian Quincy finished making breakfast and brought it upstairs especially for her.

As Claire Sinclair ate the porridge, she looked at his face with concern. "Aren’t you busy today?"

Adrian Quincy said nonchalantly, "No matter how busy I am, I can’t just leave you at home sick by yourself."

"I can take care of myself..." Claire felt a little insincere as she said it.

’When it came down to it, she still wanted him with her, even though she knew it wasn’t right.’

It was just as Teacher Hartwell had said: once he became president and she the first lady, their opportunities to see each other would become fewer and fewer. She had to get used to facing the world alone.

At this thought, Claire Sinclair raised a hand to push him away gently. "Mr. Quincy, you should go back. I’ll be fine by myself."

Adrian Quincy sighed softly and reached out to stroke her hair. "Claire, don’t overthink it. I’ll manage my schedule."

Claire Sinclair was suddenly at a loss for words.

"Finish your porridge first. I’ll leave once your fever goes down."

"Okay!" ’That’s more like it,’ she thought.

Finally feeling at ease, Claire Sinclair continued to eat her porridge.

Whether it was the restorative power of love or not, Claire Sinclair’s forehead was no longer so hot after she finished her porridge. However, a certain someone was still too worried to leave, and it took a great deal of convincing for her to finally shoo him out the door.

The moment Adrian Quincy was gone, Claire Sinclair went straight back to her room, opened her laptop, and began writing the outline for her feature story.

’With Tristan Tanner’s efficiency, the truth should come to light soon. I can’t waste any time. If I can get the outline done first, the rest of the work will go much more smoothly.’

-

After a day of rest, Claire Sinclair felt much better. The next morning, she went back to work.

As she approached Astoria Tower, she saw a crowd of people in the distance standing in front of the building, holding banners and loudly protesting something.

Claire Sinclair had the driver pull over to the side of the road. "Landon Winston, go see what they’re protesting. And while you’re there, take a video for me."

"Yes, Young Madam!" Landon Winston acknowledged the order, immediately got out of the car, and jogged off.

A few minutes later, Landon Winston returned to the car, panting. He handed his phone to Claire Sinclair. "Young Madam, you should see for yourself."

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