The Man Who Waited vs. The Man Who Wasted novel Chapter 487

Even after they stepped inside the apartment, Jocelyn still couldn't figure out why she had asked him to stay.

She had explicitly told herself she didn't want to face him yet.

Was it because of his untreated wound? Or was it the utterly devastating look of rejection on his face that had broken her resolve?

The guest slippers Julian usually wore had been used by Gideon. Jocelyn ripped open a brand-new pair from their plastic packaging.

"Wear these. They're new."

She knew Julian was a total germaphobe. He just miraculously never let it show whenever he was around her.

Jocelyn took his coat, hung it up by the door, and then grabbed a first-aid kit from the cabinet.

Julian sat rigidly on the sofa.

Jocelyn sat down right next to him. Without a word, she gently took his injured hand and meticulously began cleaning the scrape.

Even though the antiseptic stung, Julian didn't flinch. He sat there in total silence.

Jocelyn kept her head bowed, too terrified to look up.

She could feel the burning weight of his gaze fixed entirely on her.

She cleaned, disinfected, applied ointment, and finally wrapped it in gauze, tying a perfect, neat little bow at the end.

The bandage was spotless and professional.

Her movements were smooth and practiced, like a seasoned nurse.

"You're very good at that," Julian couldn't help but say.

Jocelyn began packing up the first-aid kit. "Growing up, whenever I got bumped, bruised, or scraped, I always had to patch myself up. I learned a long time ago."

Unbidden, the memory of that hideous, jagged scar on her waist flashed through Julian's mind.

"Including the scar on your waist?"

"A doctor stitched it up initially and told me to come back every two days to change the dressing. I couldn't be bothered, so I just did it myself."

The truth was, she was just a kid back then, and Diana hadn't cared enough to take her to the hospital. So, she simply stopped going.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify