Chapter 391
[ 467 words ]
Chapter 391:
“No!” she snapped, her voice a choked, angry sob. She slapped his left hand away. “Don’t you dare hide it.”
She looked up at him, her eyes blazing with a retroactive terror. “You flew across the world with this?” she demanded, her voice shaking with rage. “You got on a plane with a hole in your chest? Are you insane?”
He looked down at her, his expression softening. “I heard my wife needed me,” he said simply.
The quiet, unadorned truth of his words shattered what was left of her composure. A sob ripped through her.
𝗜𝘯𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘀𝖾 𝘳𝗈𝗆an𝖼𝖾 𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘢𝗅𝘯𝗈𝘷e𝗅𝘀.cо𝗺
She leaned forward, her body trembling, and pressed her lips to the angry, stitched flesh of his wound. Her kiss was a desperate, reverent prayer. It was salty with her own tears, a baptism of sorrow and gratitude.
A low groan rumbled in his chest, and his whole body went rigid beneath her. The sound was one of part pain, part something else entirely.
She pulled back instantly, her eyes wide with fear. “Did I hurt you?”
He captured her hand with his left hand, his grip surprisingly strong, and guided her mouth back to his chest. His voice was a raw, broken whisper.
“Don’t stop.”
He needed her touch. He needed her to see him, all of him, the broken parts and the scars. He needed her to heal him in the only way that mattered.
With tears still streaming down her face, Caroline began to do just that.
After the first wave of grief and terror subsided, Caroline’s training kicked in. The weeping woman receded, and the nurse took over. She wiped her eyes with the back of her free hand, her expression becoming focused and professional.
“This dressing is inadequate,” she said, her voice firm, all traces of hysteria gone. “The wound isn’t clean. It could get infected.”
She pulled away from him and slid off the bed. Jarrod watched her, a look of quiet awe on his face. He started to protest, to say it was fine, but the look she gave him—the no-nonsense, authoritative glare of a medical professional who would not be argued with—silenced him. He remained on the bed, shirtless and obedient.
Caroline went to the room’s well-stocked medical supply cabinet and began gathering materials: sterile saline, antiseptic wipes, antibiotic ointment, fresh gauze, and medical tape. She prepared with an efficient, practiced calm that was mesmerizing to watch.
She returned to the bed and began to gently peel away the old dressing. He flinched as it pulled at the sutures.
“Sorry,” she murmured, her touch becoming even more delicate.
As she cleaned the wound with meticulous care, the silence in the room felt different. It was no longer heavy with tension, but filled with a quiet, domestic intimacy.
“Will you…” she began, her voice hesitant as she concentrated on her work. “Will you have to go back soon?”
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