Love Unbreakable by Bank Brook

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.

her heart, and a

emotionally, assuming she

to understand his motives. Doubt gripped her. She feared the answer

Nicole's eyes, landing on Roscoe's

faltered. The once skilled surgeon was momentarily at a loss, his hands fumbling as he tried to comfort her. "Nicole," he uttered softly,

smile and took charge. "Turn around. Let me see to

faint. "There's no need

argue. Just turn around,” Nicole persisted, not willing to take

to work. She meticulously cleaned the lacerations with iodine, applied clotting agents, and

stiffen, a sign that such

the bandage,

her question piercing the silence. "Roscoe, is it me that you want?" The interplay of light and shadow in the room highlighted the clean lines of Roscoe's face, a stark contrast to the charged

carried an undeniable allure as

to accept his sacrifice and selflessness. The thought of easing her

awaken him from what she ‘saw as a pointless pursuit with the bait of her own

was undeniable, potent even, and for someone like Roscoe, who seemed

Roscoe's actions. "Is this you've been striving for?" Roscoe's expression shifted into one of icy detachment, his demeanor

the ache spreading through her chest, pressed on. "Roscoe, I can

condition. We end this afterward.” Gone was the naivety of youth from Roscoe's features.

unwavering. They found themselves locked in a tacit standoff, each waiting for the other to concede defeat first. Roscoe's stubbornness matched her

held onto a sliver of certainty amid the tension. Roscoe, in spite of his ire, would not hurt her.

dared not reveal

themselves, held her gaze, his

Nicole's wildest scenarios. The Roscoe she knew, once easily flushed

barely above a whisper, carried a weight. "Nicole, this is a game to you. Enough." He released her and departed, his

succumbing to exhaustion only in the deepest hours

first light crept across the