Chapter 190: Blowing Away the Pain

Maggie laughed angrily and glared at him. "You haven't settled the score with me for lying yet, and you still have the nerve to think about something else!"

She pushed him away and walked toward the sofa. "Come here. Let me take a look at your arm."

Nathael watched her for a moment, then chuckled softly, a hint of indulgence in his eyes. He followed her with long strides.

After pressing him onto the sofa, Maggie's gaze fell immediately on his wound.

"Have you changed the bandage?"

The wound, covered by bandages, was the most severe of several cuts, varying in depth.

"Yeah," Nathael responded.

"Huh?" Maggie's finger rested on the bandage as she gently lifted a corner. Hearing his response, she looked at him suspiciously.

"Not yet," Nathael corrected himself. He'd taken a quick shower, worried she might notice something wrong. He had only used iodine to disinfect the wound and hadn't applied any medicine; the medicine smelled strong.

Maggie pursed her lips, her jaw tightening slightly. She stood up, fetched the medicine box, and carefully used scissors to cut open the bandage.

A wound more severe than the one beside it was revealed. The other wound had begun to heal, showing pink, tender flesh, but this one hadn't. It seemed the exertion had reopened it, and blood was seeping out.

"Which medicine should I use?" Maggie muttered, displeasure evident.

Nathael silently watched her treat his wound, selecting several ointments from the medicine box. He lowered his gaze, his mind returning to her words: She would care, and she would worry.

Maggie held her breath, her throat tightening, her whole nervous system tense, afraid of hurting him. Nathael remained indifferent.

After a time, she worriedly asked, "Does it hurt?"

Nathael smirked. "Blow on it, and it won't hurt anymore," he replied in a deep voice.

Maggie was stunned, feeling hurt and annoyed. Her eyes reddened with anger. "You're childish!" she exclaimed. "Do you have any empathy?" She was furious. The injury was severe; it could have required amputation.

After struggling, Maggie finally treated the worst part of his injury and rebandaged it. She then treated several other serious wounds.

Finishing, her fingertips brushed a scabbed-over wound—one of the shallower cuts, caused by sharp fragments. It wasn't serious, but somewhat deep; she wondered if it would scar.

Maggie was absentminded and subdued, still emotional from crying and worrying about his injuries.

"It won't leave a scar. My friend has a traditional ointment with remarkable healing properties," Nathael said, noticing her worry. He pulled her into his arms and spoke softly.

Maggie nestled obediently in his arms, still wondering. For her, life could be restarted, but the future and accidents remained unpredictable. Had Nathael experienced this in his past life? She couldn't remember.

"Want to watch a movie?" Nathael asked softly, glancing down at her.

"Yeah," Maggie responded absentmindedly.

Nathael turned on the TV, poured her a glass of water, and selected a new release.

Twenty minutes into the movie, Maggie, still distracted, asked, "Who did this? Was it someone from the Harris family? Or some enemy?"

(The following section seems to be from a later point in the chapter or a different chapter entirely. It should be separated or re-organized.)

Chapter 190: Blowing Away the Pain (continued?)

"Greater its power, the harder it is to stay united. Everyone has their selfish desires and needs."

Maggie understood his words referred to the Harris family. Thinking of Beth, she asked, "Will it be detrimental to you because I conflicted with the Brays?"

Nathael pinched her face. "It won't. If I have to rely on the Brays to stand firm, then I'd rather not inherit the Harris family. Moreover, the Brays are reasonable people. How could they be at odds with me just because of Beth?"

His eyes were deep. His marriage to Beth would never happen. Whether he offended the Brays or allied with them, Master Bray would decide. If they were sensible, he wouldn't mind letting them enjoy some benefits.

Maggie nestled in his arms. Feeling weary, or perhaps comforted by his embrace, her eyelids grew heavy, and she fell asleep. Nathael turned off the TV, gazing at her face, tracing its contours. He kissed her forehead and carried her to the bedroom.

That night, Maggie didn't sleep peacefully. Memories from her past life—real or imagined—flooded her dreams: Sierra gouging out her eyes, Phillip and Fiona dying, Beth pushing her down the stairs, Nathael saving her.

"Nana!"

"Nana, wake up!"

"Go away!"

Maggie jolted awake in a cold sweat, remembering the moment she and Nathael were nearly killed.

Nathael's concerned gaze met hers. "It's okay," he said softly.

Maggie sighed, glancing at the clock. It was 8 AM. The dream reignited her anger.

With a cold expression, she ignored him, got out of bed, and went to the living room for water. Nathael followed. "Had a nightmare?" he asked quietly.

"I'm angry! If you hide something from me again, I'll never talk to you again!" Maggie cried, tears streaming down her face.

Nathael paused, then stepped forward to embrace her.

Maggie stepped back. "Don't touch me. I'm still angry. Don't think this matter can be brushed aside lightly."

She sat on the sofa, hugging her knees, her complexion pale, but her lips, wet from the water, bright red, a look of sadness and anger on her face.

Nathael felt a headache coming on. He hadn't expected this after finally calming her down.

A few minutes later, he brought a large, beautifully packaged gift box and placed it in front of Maggie.

Maggie wiped her tears, her nose still red. "What is it?" she asked.