The Ruined Bride of Velvet Nights by Brick Moving Ant

Chapter 65

  • Chapter 11

  • Joseph and I started dating, but our demanding jobs meant we rarely had time to see each other.

  • Most of our encounters took place in war–torn regions–he’d be rushing to treat the wounded, while I’d be in the operating room, fighting to save lives.

  • A fleeting touch as we brushed past each other was often the only connection we shared.

  • The patchy network signal didn’t help either, Days would pass without hearing from each other, but then, out of nowhere, my phone would buzz nonstop as messages flooded in. They were disorganized, chaotic, as if they too had braved gunfire and destruction, but they carried the weight of longing and steadfast affection.

  • The situation in North Kivu grew increasingly dire.

  • Our first argument happened on the day a village near Goma was attacked.

  • When we arrived, the armed militants hadn’t fully retreated, and the security forces were still exchanging fire with them.

  • We rushed back to the vehicle, preparing to evacuate, but Joseph suddenly jumped out of the ambulance.

  • There, at the edge of the battlefield, lay a collapsed villager.

  • Joseph hoisted the man onto his back and carried him to safety, his own body cut and bleeding from shrapnel.

  • I was furious and terrified, yelling at him, “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  • But he stood his ground. “I’m a doctor! I couldn’t just leave him there! His leg was injured, but he could’ve survived. If I didn’t save him, he would’ve died for sure!”

  • I knew he was right, and I knew it was his duty to save lives.

  • But when he returned covered in blood–so much blood I couldn’t tell which was his and which

  • wasn’t–my composure crumbled.

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  • examination and realizing his injuries were only superficial, I

  • something happened to you, what would I do?”

  • silently for a moment before wrapping his arms around

  • I promise I’ll be more careful. I won’t put myself in danger,

  • anymore.”

  • face in his chest. “You have

  • pinky swear,”

  • swear, whoever breaks it will turn into a puppy!”

  • couldn’t help but laugh through my tears. “If you really turn into a puppy, how

  • he teased, grinning.

  • Panicked, I quickly pulled the pillow away, only

  • seemed to say: See? I’m not that easy to

  • glared at him until my eyes stung

  • moment, I realized how precious every

  • the Ebola virus began its relentless assault on this

  • country.

  • THE

  • he shuttled back and forth

  • were forced

  • still relatively stable. On the other hand, nearly a hundred patients remained in the center. If everyone left, those

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  • in their

  • to stay and adapt to the situation as if unfolded.

  • Goma, cutting off all routes in and out. We

  • Joseph suddenly sent me a message, asking me to come to the treatment center. He didn’t explain much, but I had a

  • out, I saw

  • in infected wounds. I couldn’t believe my

  • occupying the outskirts were Tutsis, and the Tutsis had a deep–seated blood feud with

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