Chapter 185 Want to Hug You
Nason turned back and glanced at Juliana.
She was tall and slender, with a willowy waist. From his angle, he could see her swan-like neck—an absolutely exquisite beauty.
He swallowed involuntarily.
He just couldn't figure out why all these amazing, gorgeous women were obsessed with the Gonzaga brothers.
"Done playing crazy?" Nason asked.
Juliana turned around. Her face was still pale, making her look fragile. Usually, she carried herself with such pride, but right now she could bring out a man's protective instincts.
"I just thought the dream was beautiful," Juliana said softly. "Didn't want to wake up."
"Did those guys traumatize you or something? You just went through a near-death experience—why would you be having sweet dreams? You should be having nightmares and seeing a therapist."
Juliana smiled faintly. "I almost died, it's true. But in that moment of danger, I saw a hero fighting his way through impossible odds to reach me."
"I heard what happened. He wasn't trying to save you—he was after his wife. You're deluding yourself."
Juliana ignored the mockery in his tone. "Exactly. Which is why I need the dream."
Nason fell silent. Hopeless romantic.
He pulled out a cigarette, was about to light it, but glanced at Juliana and asked, "Mind if I smoke?"
"Go ahead. I don't mind."
Nason lit up and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "What's so special about Wentworth anyway? Why are you all throwing yourselves at him? Don't forget—you're alive because of me. Same with Matilda and Wentworth. If it weren't for me, they'd be dead right now."
Juliana was quiet for a moment, then looked up at him with a smile. "Thank you."
That smile caught Nason off guard. Her face was pale as a lily battered by a storm, but the smile itself was radiant.
Nason crushed out the cigarette. "What am I doing smoking in a hospital room? I've lost my damn mind."
...
Wentworth returned to Phoenix City and was admitted to Concordia Saint Medical Center.
His attending physician was still Dwight, who greeted him the same as always—"Young Marshal."
After a thorough examination, Dwight spoke to Charles, Matilda, and the others. "The bullet went deep, but it really didn't hit anything vital. Wentworth's in great shape—he should be fully recovered within a month at most."
Concordia Saint Medical Center had top-tier equipment and it was their own hospital—he'd definitely pull through.
Being back in Phoenix City, in his own territory, everything felt lighter somehow. More free. Like coming home to your own turf. It was convenient to run home for stuff, change clothes, whatever they needed.
Matilda continued her leave from the hospital, staying by his side constantly. And Wentworth was practically glued to her—even in his sleep, he'd grip her hand tight and refuse to let go.
Zoey teased them. "Matilda, you should just become a military spouse. Then you could see him all the time."
Wentworth's eyes lit up. He looked at Matilda expectantly.
But Matilda hesitated. She'd never really considered it before. Her entire worldview insisted that no matter how much a woman loved a man, she couldn't give up her career for him—otherwise, over time, she'd just turn into some worn-out housewife.
Following the military meant leaving her job at Harmony Health Center and starting over somewhere completely unfamiliar.
Wentworth must have picked up on her internal struggle. He took her hand. "Matty, I've always wanted you to come with me because I want to see you all the time instead of every few months. But I know you have your concerns, so maybe we should really think this through—" A coughing fit cut him off.
Zoey's eyes widened at Wentworth. She hadn't expected him to be so calculating—he clearly wanted it but was pretending otherwise.
"I think I need more time to consider it," Matilda said.
"Matilda, are you worried the military posting would be too remote?" Zoey chimed in. "Like those border areas you worked in before?"
Matilda nodded. "It's not about me being out there. It's mainly about the future..."
"You're worried about education for kids? Thinking the schools wouldn't be as good?" Zoey figured since Wentworth couldn't bring himself to ask, she'd do it for him.
Matilda nodded again. "Exactly."
Zoey turned to Wentworth. "So if Matilda did follow you, would it be remote?"
Wentworth quickly shook his head. "Not at all. Military families usually live in the city. We could come home on weekends."
Matilda's eyes clearly brightened. Seeing each other every week beat seeing each other every month or two.
"And do they help find jobs for spouses?" Zoey pressed.
"We have programs to help with that," Wentworth said. "Or you could start your own business in the city, something like that."
"Let me think about it more," Matilda said.
Zoey stayed for two hours before heading out. She loved being around Matilda, but she knew she wasn't really helping here. There were nurses taking care of everything—she'd just come to chat.
When she got ready to leave, Matilda walked her to the door.
"Zoey, have you told Charles about the pregnancy yet?"
Back in England, there hadn't been time to bring it up. Then the kidnapping happened. Matilda didn't know if Zoey had said anything since.
Zoey pouted. "Not yet."
"You're almost three months along, aren't you?" Matilda looked down at Zoey's belly. Summer was coming and the weather was getting warm, but Zoey favored loose dresses—you couldn't tell she was showing yet.
Zoey touched her stomach with a smile, her round face dimpling. "Charles has just been so busy lately. And now he's worried about Wentworth. I figured I'd wait until things calm down a bit."
"You're way too casual about this. At three months you need prenatal checkups and you need to register at the hospital. Tell him soon so he can go with you to the appointments."
Zoey laughed, her cute dimples deepening. "I know, I know!"
...
Matilda returned to the room.
"What were you talking to Zoey about?" Wentworth asked.
Matilda thought about it—if even Charles didn't know about Zoey's pregnancy, she should probably keep quiet. "Just chatting."
Wentworth didn't push it. He reached for her hand. "I want to hold you."
"Maybe not right now—the nurse might come in." The nurses checked in regularly to take his temperature and ask about food, water, bathroom situation.
But Wentworth was insistent. "Come here."
"Fine." Given that he was the patient, she sat down beside him and tucked herself into the crook of his arm. He held her tightly against him.
"Matty, I wish I could hold you like this every day."
"Then focus on getting better first."
After a moment, he asked quietly, "Matty, are you mad at me for saving Juliana first that day?"