You Hit My Heart novel Chapter 473

"What's wrong with you? You always like to come to my houses in the middle of the night!" Joyce wretchedly got up from the ground, rubbed her knees, and said annoyedly, "What brought you here today then?"

"Again? I've been here in the middle of the night before?" Luther asked, completely ignoring her anger and raising an eyebrow.

"..." Joyce was speechless. She didn't want to bring up the past again, and he couldn't remember anyway.

Somehow, she suddenly thought about the day of Luther's car accident. After work, in the her office, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply, like a goodbye kiss.

And indeed, that night he had a car accident and lost his memory.

Although his life was not in danger, everything was not the same as before. The memories between him and her, of life and death, were all reduced to nothing.

When she thought about that lingering and passionate kiss, her cheeks burned slightly and her eyes were misty.

"Did I?" Luther's question interrupted her thoughts.

She was snapped awake, and luckily, he didn't notice her loss of composure. She avoided the question, "What the hell do you want when you come in the middle of the night?"

"Insomnia, can't sleep alone at home." He returned carelessly. He didn't feel the least bit guilty about violating her privacy, as if this was his territory.

"You take pills for insomnia! What are you doing here in my place?" She was even angrier.

He was unbelievable.

"Sleep." His thin lips spit out a word.

Luther lay on the narrow bed, feeling his whole body relaxed. In fact, since he was discharged from the hospital, he could hardly sleep at night, and even more so during the day. Even if he took sleeping pills, he could only take a short nap. His daily headache was so bad, but he could not think of anything.

He never easily told others about his pain, and that the accident left him with a headache that extremely affected his sleep.

For days without rest, his spirit had been strained, and his body on the verge of collapse.

But last night, here with Joyce, he slept soundly and deeply until dawn, without waking up in the middle of the night. He had not slept so well for a long time. For example, tonight in his own home, he simply could not sleep.

He needed to rest, he was tired, and he wanted to sleep well. And this place seemed to have a magical power, and after tossing and turning at home all night without any sleep, he wanted to come here for no reason.

Could it be that he paid a high price for this place because he could sleep well here?