Could You Check On Her

Alexander paused, a shadow of doubt flickering in his eyes.

He had planned to tell Evelyn everything. But recent dangers made him reconsider.

Would knowing the truth put her in more danger?

Before he could answer, Evelyn laughed softly, dismissing her own thoughts. "I must be imagining things. You're in a wheelchair... how could you possibly..."

She winced, raising a hand to her temple. "My head... it's starting to hurt."

Alexander reacted instantly. He took her hand—the one with the IV mark—and called out, "Benjamin, could you come here?" His voice carried to Benjamin, who had been watching from the doorway with amusement. "She's in pain. Could you check on her?"

Benjamin entered immediately, his professional demeanor taking over. A nurse followed, tending to the spot on Evelyn's hand where the needle had been.

"Nothing serious," Benjamin announced after a quick examination. "Just a typical reaction to the medication. She needs rest."

He handed a tube of ointment to Alexander. "She has injuries. This needs to be applied regularly."

Alexander looked surprised. "Why are you giving this to me?"

Benjamin rolled his eyes discreetly. "She has wounds. Some are minor, but others on her back and arm are quite severe. You expect me to apply it? Aren't you her husband?"

Evelyn felt a wave of discomfort.

They were married, but their relationship was distant.

Alexander always refused help with personal tasks. How could he be expected to tend to her wounds?

She reached for the ointment. "I can do it myself..."

The sudden movement pulled at the wound on her arm. She gasped, sharp pain shooting through her.

The nurse stepped in quickly. "We should apply the ointment now. The agitation earlier probably made it worse. The pain is more noticeable now that she's calm."

Benjamin gave the nurse a subtle nod of approval.

"We'll leave you to it. Press the call button if you need anything," Benjamin said. He patted Alexander's shoulder and led the nurse out, closing the door softly behind him.

The room grew quiet, the air thick with tension. Evelyn glanced at Alexander, who was silent. She tried again to reach for the ointment.

Alexander moved to block her hand. "I'll do it. Don't move."

His expression was unreadable. "Take off your gown. I'll apply the ointment."

Evelyn's cheeks flushed crimson. "That's... not proper..."

Alexander's gaze was steady. "We're married. What's improper about it?"

Evelyn bit her lip, her mind racing. Finally, she turned away from him. She slowly loosened the ties of her hospital gown. With a resigned sigh, she lay down on her stomach.

Alexander's eyes traced the line of her slender waist. He swallowed hard.

But the sight of the bruises on her back brought him back. One deep wound looked freshly irritated. Her arm was swollen and red.

His expression darkened. He picked up a sterile swab and began applying the ointment with careful precision.

Evelyn felt the cool, tingling sensation on her skin.

"Don't worry," Alexander whispered, his voice low and soothing. His touch was gentle, each application thoughtful and tender.