“I know how to change bandages, and I’ve also got medicine.” Bryant stood

up and walked over, each step pressing down on my heart like a weight. “I’ll

teach you how to change it.”

“Well, you might as well do it yourself.” With that, I turned to leave.

“Jane.” He suddenly grasped mine, his voice gravelly with emotion, “It hurts.”

Those two words alone were enough to shatter my defenses. After all, it was

a gunshot wound. I couldn’t take it lightly.

I eyed him suspiciously. “Bryant, when did I ever miss that you’re such a

drama king?”

He looked down casually. “So, are you falling for this act?”

“No.” I dropped the word and turned to leave, only for him to pull me back

forcefully. He lowered his proud head for the first time, his voice softening, “It

hurts.”

that moment, I wanted to kick

couldn’t bring myself to be harsh.

for a man would make a woman’s life

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medicine?”

sofa,” his voice

the bag from the sofa and returned, he was

gaze following my

I found everything there, including the gauze,

It was as if everything was ready

would help him.

him, puzzled. “Were you waiting

with your father.’ I added

Jane, what use is your brain anyway? Is

to add a few inches to your

sarcasm and didn’t bother to argue, stating, “Take

your shirt.”

I could only carefully treat his wound. He taught me

change the dressing but not utter unnecessary words. But

on his forehead.

I couldn’t help but ask, “Does it hurt

care?” he asked, his eyes gloomy as midnight, attempting

my soul, seemingly

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