The Unwavering Heart That Broke (Nathalie and Lance) novel Chapter 647

That night, there were no nightmares, no sudden awakenings. Nathalie slept soundly.

When she opened her eyes and saw Lance, his face half-covered in bandages, she momentarily froze.

The curtains didn't block out much light, allowing a thin layer of morning dawn to filter through. The room was dim, but with him lying right beside her, his striking features and strong jawline were distinct.

The look of haggard agony was gone from his face. His eyes hadn't hurt during the night.

Nathalie couldn't help but reach out to touch his face, but just as her fingers neared him, she stopped.

Her hand curled inward.

What was she doing?

A sudden wave of panic hit her. She quickly pulled her hand back and slowly turned, preparing to get out of bed.

"Good morning, Nathalie."

The man's low, sleepy voice sounded, thick with the gravelly texture of morning.

Nathalie stiffened. She reached out and tapped his shoulder in greeting.

But he grabbed her hand.

He pressed it directly against his cheek. "Were you trying to touch me just now? Why did you stop? You can touch me all you want. Anywhere."

Nathalie froze, her pale face flushing a bright red.

Shameless!

Who wanted to touch him?!

She yanked her hand back, threw off the covers, and got out of bed.

Lance carefully tracked the sounds she made. From the way she practically bolted, he could tell she was flustered and irritated.

The image of her current expression immediately formed in his mind. Even though he couldn't see, he could picture it perfectly because every detail of her was etched deep into his heart.

He pressed a hand to his forehead. He really had slept well, even though he had woken up a few times just to check if she was still there.

She had slept beside him all night. It brought him immense peace.

He was starting to believe she wasn't lying. She really would stay with him until his eyesight returned.

...

The doctor changed Lance's dressings, asked a few questions, and left.

Aaron brought breakfast. Nathalie walked over, set up the overbed table, sat opposite Lance, and instinctively started feeding him.

Feeling the warm, sweet porridge against his lips, Lance paused. "I can do it myself."

But the warmth at his lips didn't retreat.

He let out a soft sigh. "You can't keep feeding me forever. What happens when you leave?"