Chapter 180

Chapter 181

James's POV:

I held Sophia's hand. She didn't push me away or pull back. I was thrilled.

I was about to get up and hug her when I pulled the wound on my back. I held back the pain without making a sound and hugged her.

Sophia seemed to notice. She gently patted my shoulder: "Did you pull your wound? Let me see."

I held her tight and wouldn't let go: "I'm fine, just let me hold you for a bit."

The nurse knocked on the door: "Is it okay to come in and change your dressing?"

I ground my back teeth. I'd finally gotten to hold Sophia, and now someone was interrupting.

Sophia's POV:

I quickly let go of his hand.

He turned his head and glanced toward the door, his voice flat: "Come in."

The nurse came in carrying medicine.

She was a young nurse with a low ponytail, pushing a treatment cart. Above her mask, her eyes curved into crescents.

When she saw James, her eyes curved even more: "Mr. Smith, I'm here to change your dressing."

She walked to the bedside and was about to lift his shirt from the back.

James shifted away.

The nurse's hand hung in mid-air.

"You don't need to change it," he said.

The nurse froze: "What?"

"Just put the medicine down." He turned his head, his gaze landing on me. "Sophia, can you help me change the dressing?"

The nurse looked at him, then at me, wanting to say something but holding back.

"Me?" I was confused. "I don't know how to change dressings."

His voice was steady as he instructed: "Please teach her."

The nurse looked troubled: "Mr. Smith, she's not a professional. I'm afraid she'll hurt you."

"It's fine."

The nurse wouldn't give up: "Mr. Smith, let me do it. I'm very professional, I definitely won't hurt you."

"Not necessary. Do as I say."

The nurse had no choice but to put the things down and briefly teach me how to change the dressing.

After listening, I picked up the supplies, my mind working through what to do next. James didn't rush me, just lay there on his side watching me.

The nurse glared at me, left the room, and gently closed the door.

I caught it from the corner of my eye and sighed inwardly. James's charm was still pretty powerful.

"Why do you want me to do this? What if I accidentally hurt you again?"

The corner of his mouth curved up: "I can't let other women see my body."

I didn't know how to argue with that.

James had actually learned to be shameless.

Whatever.

Considering he got hurt because of me, I wouldn't argue with him.

I walked around to his back to peel off the edge of the dressing.

The medical tape was stuck on tight. Afraid of hurting him, I peeled it very slowly.

He didn't make a sound.

The moment the gauze came off, I couldn't help but gasp.

His wound was worse than I'd imagined.

From his shoulder blade down, a large patch of skin was corroded, the edges irregular, some areas still seeping tissue fluid, red and white mixed, shocking to see.

My fingers hung in mid-air, not daring to touch.

"It must really hurt."

"It's okay." His voice was steady.

I didn't say anything.

When I disinfected it, my hand was shaking.

The moment the cotton swab touched the edge of the wound, the muscles in his back clearly tensed, then relaxed again.

He didn't make a sound.

I lightened my touch, dabbing away the fluid bit by bit.

"You can cry out if it hurts," I said.

"No need."

I continued applying the medicine.

When the medicine was done, I picked up a fresh dressing and carefully placed it.

Throughout the whole process, he never cried out in pain, but sweat beaded on his forehead, and the sheets were wrinkled from his grip. These things gave him away.

I walked back around to face him and threw the used cotton swabs into the medical waste bin.

When I looked up, I saw his well-defined abs, hard and firm, and his chest muscles. Very nice.

Suddenly, my mind went blank.

He looked up at me. Our eyes met. I didn't react in time, didn't look away.

"Your face is really red," he said.

I instinctively raised my hand to touch my cheek.

It was burning hot.

"The air conditioning in the room is too high." I looked away, making an excuse, and turned my attention to cleaning up the medicine supplies.

He laughed softly.

"It's not like you haven't seen it before," his voice was very soft. "We've done more intimate things. Getting embarrassed over changing a dressing."

I screwed the iodine bottle cap on a bit too hard.

"That was before. Besides, how many years has it been? I haven't seen anything this..." I didn't finish.

The corner of his mouth lifted. He reached out, very gently, and circled my hand.

I didn't struggle.

"Sophia." He called my name.

I looked down at him.

His thumb slowly rubbed the inside of my wrist, where the skin was thin, and I could clearly feel the warmth of his fingertip.

He said, "Even though I've gotten older these past few years, I work out regularly. Don't you want to try and see if I'm still as good as before?"

I was embarrassed and angry: "James, can you shut up!"

"Really don't want to try?"

He pulled my hand closer.

I half-resisted, half-yielded, not pulling my hand back.

He tugged gently. I stumbled forward half a step, my knee hitting the edge of the bed.

He looked up at me, the distance so close I could count his eyelashes.

Then he kissed me.

Very lightly, testing.

His lips touched mine. He stopped, waited a few seconds, and seeing I didn't dodge, covered them again.

This kiss lasted a bit longer than before.

He raised his hand, his fingertip pressing against my jaw, gently guiding me toward him.

I closed my eyes.

He kissed very slowly, again and again, then pulled away and looked at me.

He kissed me again, this time not as restrained as before.

He leaned over, his fingers threading through my hair, his palm against the back of my head, pulling me into his arms.

My hand, braced against the edge of the bed, started going soft.

His kisses moved down from the corner of my lips, landing on my jaw, then on the side of my neck.

I tilted my head, my neck forming an arc.

His breath was hot on my collarbone.

His kisses gradually moved lower.

Just then, the hospital room door was pushed open from outside.

"Daddy."

Aura rushed in, followed by Indigo with her cane.

I quickly pulled my hand back, stood up from the bedside, and straightened my clothes and hair.

James lay back down, his expression somewhat unpleasant, but he had to force a smile.

Aura ran to the bedside, both hands gripping the edge of the bed.

"Daddy, why are you in the hospital? Great-grandma said you got hurt. Is your injury serious? Does it hurt?"

She looked up at him, and as she spoke, her voice began to tremble.

James propped himself up, wanting to hug her.

She didn't let him hug her. She climbed onto the bed and carefully lifted the back corner of his shirt to see the patch of gauze.

Aura froze.

She didn't speak, just stared.

Then her eyes reddened.

She held it in, her lips pressed into a line, tears swirling in her eyes, then falling.

James turned around and pulled her into his arms to comfort her: "It's okay, it'll be better in a few days."

Aura shook her head.

She buried her face in his chest and cried out loud.

"Daddy, it really hurts, doesn't it..."

She cried with sobs, her tears soaking a small patch of his hospital gown.

James patted her back again and again.

"It doesn't hurt."

"You're lying..."

Aura wouldn't listen, burying her face deeper. Her crying was muffled against his chest.

I stood to the side, watching this scene, my eyes getting warm.

She cried for a while. When she was tired from crying, her sobs gradually became smaller, turning into light tremors.

James didn't let go, holding her the whole time.

Indigo stood at the door for a while, sighed, and quietly left, closing the door.

Only the three of us were left in the hospital room.