Joyce and Luther returned to their residence in the city from their private cemetery.
After entering the residence, Joyce was finally relieved. It was just such a nightmare to be surrounded by the media frenzy.
She leaned weakly against the wall and took off her shoes while breathing a long sigh of relief.
Suddenly, she felt a tug on her back, followed by a burst of hot, stinging pain.
She hurriedly stood up straight, not daring to lean her back against the wall again. When she was surrounded by reporters just now, one of them pulled her behind, causing her wound to crack again. Before she was too nervous to feel pain, but now after she relaxed both physically and mentally, the pain was literally killing her.
Luther caught a glimpse of Joyce frowning and biting her lower lip lightly, and he knew what happened from her stoic expression and stiff body.
He jerked Joyce up in his arms and strode towards the second-floor room.
Joyce only had time to whimper. She was already carried into the room and placed on the soft bed.
"Is it the wound? Let me see it." As Luther spoke, he had taken off her black shirt.
"Hey, you!" Joyce was already powerless to stop it. Now he had almost gotten used to taking off her clothes, and he didn’t even bother to ask her about her opinion.
His slightly cool fingers, tracing over her soft spine, stroked around her wound, "Luckily, it's only cracked in one place. The rest of it is recovering well, Jamie's wound medicine does work very well."
He said, he took out the iodine disinfectant, gauze, and wound medicine from the bedside table.
Then, he dipped a cotton swab into iodine volts, carefully disinfected her wound, and then reapplied the ointment.
The ointment was cool and refreshing, and his movements were gentle and slow. It was so comfortable that she couldn't help but whimper.
Maybe she was tired after being surrounded by all the reporters in the morning, or maybe it was because the pain of the wound was relieved, she felt relaxed all over.
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