My Reborn Story Is Insane (Back to My Worst Birthday and Starting Anew)

Chapter 7 Offer

Emyr stayed silent, his gaze fixed on her.

Charmaine was unbothered by the silence. He glanced at his leg and said, “I am confident that I can heal our leg.”

“Ms. Nelson, mind your words!”

Tad, who was nearby, issued a stern warning.

These days, discussing Emyr’s leg had become taboo.

As expected, the man’s eyes darkened further, and his grip on her hand tightened.

“The once unrefined and undisciplined Ms. Read thinks she can do as she pleases when she returns to the Nelsons?”

Charmaine pressed on a pressure point on his wrist, controlling the strength of his hold.

“Since you’ve delved into my past, you should be aware that I spent two years in South Aspus. There, I met an old holistic medicine healer who taught me healing techniques. Your fainting in that room would not have happened without him.”

Emyr’s expression darkened even more at the reminder of that incident.

“Don’t think I wouldn’t kill you.”

“I believe you would, but I’m also trying to give myself a chance—and to make amends with you.”

ago. Although you can’t walk, you still have feeling in it. Let me try. Maybe I can heal

medicine cabinet she had just examined, a slight smirk forming

and that smile could steal one’s soul. But his hands, eager for her life,

do you think I’d

grabbed Charmaine’s hand with his other hand, pulling her arms behind her and

him pinned her legs down, denying her any

you’re still innocent. Otherwise,

his shallow breathing

to speak, Charmaine forced out each word with difficulty. “You—you were

Emyr was astounded.

react, a figure burst into the room, grabbing Emyr’s hand and slapping

let go! Let her go right now! Do you want to choke my future

hold

collapsed to the ground, coughing as she clutched

the alcohol wipes Tad handed him to clean the hands that had touched her. Charmaine defiantly counterattacked, “What’s the use of wiping your hands

Emyr’s face grew darker.

his mouth and gushed in admiration. “No wonder she’s

her breath and barely brushing against death, Charmaine shot back with

is none of

promise to look after you—to find you a good wife who could spend the rest of your life with you.” Twenty-three years, Emyr. After twenty-three years, you have finally matured into

eyes and glared at his brother. He pretended to cry with an overly dramatic display,

Charmaine turned to Emyr and asked, “Wait, was it really your