Love Unbreakable by Bank Brook
Chapter 452
Chapter 453 Nicole pivoted and made her way to Roscoe's door.
Finding it unlocked, Nicole swung it open without a second thought. "Roscoe, what..." she began, but the sight before her cut her words short.
Roscoe was perched on a stool, clumsily dressing wounds that marred his back. A deep laceration ran from his shoulder to his lower back.
Struggling to reach the injury, his efforts to apply medicine were ineffective, and the bleeding hadn't stopped.
Nicole's eyes stung with unshed tears at the sight.
As Roscoe noticed her gaze, he hastily covered up and tried to rise.
‘Stay seated, Nicole insisted, her voice thick with emotion.
She reached out, touching his shoulder gingerly. Roscoe sank back down, attempting to downplay his injuries. "It's nothing, really. It's just now that I've seen it..." Nicole, her tone laden with disbelief, pressed, "Do you take me for a fool?"
In the midst of a heavy silence, Nicole's voice trembled slightly. "Is this from the parking lot incident?" Her mind flashed back to the guards, their hands wielding sinister, blade-like weapons, which she had first mistaken for whips.
Those very weapons were intended for her, but Roscoe had intercepted the blow, taking the hit in her stead. When Nicole broached the subject, Roscoe dismissed it with a stoic front. "It's nothing. I've weathered worse." Nicole, driven by concern, unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the grim reality of his injuries. It confirmed Jarrod's words.
Roscoe's existence within the Watts dynasty was fraught with hardship.
As she reached out, Roscoe caught her hand in a tender grasp, stopping her. "Careful, you'll soil your hands," he cautioned.
Nicole bowed her head, noting the crimson that had already transferred to her skin.
With quiet care, Roscoe wiped her hand clean, ensuring
no trace of the ordeal remained on her.
heart, and
she lost the ability to connect with others emotionally, assuming she had hardened herself into ‘someone unfeeling and callous under Jarrod's
She feared the answer might reveal a lack of
eyes,
not worth it, Roscoe..." Roscoe's composure faltered. The once skilled surgeon was momentarily at a loss, his hands fumbling as he tried to comfort her. "Nicole," he uttered
a smile and took charge.
protest was faint. "There's
persisted, not willing to take
Roscoe's back now to her, Nicole set to work. She meticulously cleaned the lacerations with iodine, applied clotting agents,
stiffen, a sign that such care
bandage, Roscoe donned a white
boldness, caught his hand, her question piercing the silence. "Roscoe, is it me that you want?" The interplay of
carried an undeniable allure as she leaned in close. "I'm
bring herself to accept his sacrifice and selflessness. The thought of easing her conscience through such an exchange crossed
she ‘saw as a pointless pursuit with the bait of her
held their own power. Her appeal was undeniable, potent even, and
actions. "Is this you've been striving for?" Roscoe's expression shifted into one
the ache spreading through her chest, pressed on.
naivety of youth from Roscoe's features. He regarded her with a discernment honed
man before her was an enigma, changed from the Roscoe she once knew. Despite the shift, Nicole maintained her poise, her hand curving around the nape of his neck, her facade unwavering. They found themselves locked in a tacit standoff, each waiting for the other to concede defeat first. Roscoe's stubbornness matched her own. His frustration was palpable. He caught her hand firmly, pinning it against the wall, his proximity closing in, his tone roughened. "Nicale..." The way he uttered her name was undeniably charged, a daring move in their tense
She held onto a sliver of certainty amid the tension. Roscoe,
dared not reveal her
held her gaze, his breath mingling with
easily flushed with embarrassment, had matured. His proximity sent a flutter through her lashes, a reflex she
barely above a whisper, carried a weight. "Nicole, this
outside, succumbing to exhaustion only in
crept across the horizon, Nicole's
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