After getting the ointment, Chloe went to wash her hands. By the time she came out, he had already taken off his shirt.
His body was still wrapped in gauze, and his fair skin bore several old scars.
The scar from one gunshot wound was still dark.
It hadn’t been long since it healed.
Chloe stared at the gunshot wound, her eyes flickering for a moment.
She began to unwrap the gauze from his body, revealing over a dozen crisscrossing knife wounds of varying sizes.
As she applied the ointment to each wound, the man’s body tensed the moment her fingertips touched the injury.
Chloe’s brow furrowed. "Even if it hurts, you have to bear it. Don’t move."
Walker’s hand, resting on his thigh, clenched into a fist. His voice was low and raspy. "It doesn’t hurt. It’s itchy."
Chloe paused. Suddenly, she no longer wanted to apply the ointment for him.
Walker closed his eyes and said, "I’m not numb. I can feel it, but I can bear it. You don’t have to be so wary of me."
Chloe scoffed. "Not a single word out of your mouth is true. How could I possibly believe you?"
Walker’s lips quirked, but he didn’t say anything more.
Chloe resumed applying the ointment. This time she wasn’t so careful, quickly finishing the wounds on his back before tossing the tube into his lap. "Do the ones on the front yourself."
Without waiting for him to react, she turned and walked away.
Walker: "..."
He opened his eyes and watched her slender, straight back, a flicker of resignation in his gaze.
’What a heartless woman.’
...
Chloe was organizing some files in her room when her phone suddenly rang. She picked it up and saw it was a call from her grandmother.
’Hm?’
’Why would Grandma be calling at this hour?’



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