Monster Billionaire Husband, Let Me Go

Chapter 11: Percy's Travel Plan

When Percy handed me the itinerary, I was stunned by its meticulous details.

Every hour from sunrise to sunset was precisely scheduled, even down to restaurant ratings and recommended dishes for lunch.

"I've adjusted the camera," he said, waving the professional equipment. "I'll make sure you look beautiful in every shot."

The plane tickets to Ulan Butong lay quietly on the coffee table.

On the day of departure, Percy's complexion was paler than usual.

At the security checkpoint, his fingers unconsciously twisted the straps of his backpack, his knuckles turning white.

"Maybe we should—"

"It's fine." He cut me off, his voice tight like a strained string.

The moment the cabin door closed, I noticed his breath hitch.

During takeoff, the force pushed him back into his seat, and he suddenly grabbed my wrist, his palm cold and clammy with sweat.

When turbulence hit, his entire body stiffened like a board, his eyelashes casting uneasy shadows over his pale face.

During the four-hour drive, he stared blankly at the scenery rushing past the window, his pupils slightly contracted.

By the time we reached the hotel, the back of his shirt was soaked.

"Get some rest first," I said, handing him a glass of warm water.

When the sound of running water in the bathroom stopped, I found him curled up in the corner behind the curtains, his suitcase in disarray.

A pill bottle had rolled onto the floor, and he was shakily swallowing tablets.

"Just... adjusting," he forced a weak smile, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I'll be better tomorrow."

But the next morning, dark circles hung heavily under his eyes.

The morning mist over Princess Lake was dreamlike, yet all I noticed were his trembling fingers as he held the camera.

"Look at the lens," he said hoarsely.

Through the viewfinder, his brows remained furrowed.

Passing tourists glanced our way. "Is the young man suffering from altitude sickness?" an elderly woman asked with concern.

Percy shook his head, but as soon as I turned away, he swallowed two more pills.

The sight of couples laughing and chasing each other across the grassland dimmed his expression.

"Go run," he said, pointing the camera at me. "I'll take your picture."

But when I started running, his breathing suddenly turned ragged.

At the horse ranch, the moment I mounted the horse, his hand holding the camera froze.

As the horse began to trot, I heard the sound of shattering glass behind me—the camera had crashed to the ground.

"Percy!"

He knelt in the grass, his hands clutching his collar as if trying to strangle himself.

Those eyes that always looked at me with tenderness were now filled with shattered fear.