Chapter 205

Susan's fingers trembled, nearly dropping her keys.

Andrew's sudden vulnerability caught her off guard. The cold, domineering man she remembered now clung to her like a child begging for candy.

"Mr. Lucas, infected wounds can kill." Her tone was deliberately harsh. "I don't want a wrongful death lawsuit on my hands."

"Susan..." His voice was muffled, warm breath brushing her nape. "It hurts."

Those three words stabbed her heart like a blunt knife. She clenched her jaw, refusing to look at his pale face.

"Let Leo take you to the hospital." She fumbled with the keys, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

It took three tries to fit the key into the lock. A low chuckle behind her made her ears burn with embarrassment.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing." Andrew leaned closer, his injured arm loosely encircling her. "Just... your shaky hands are adorable."

Susan shoved the door open and stormed inside. The first-aid kit clattered as she rummaged through it, then hurled a tube of ointment at him.

"Do it yourself!"

Andrew didn't catch it. The tube hit his chest and fell to the floor. As he bent to pick it up, he groaned and dropped to one knee.

"You—" She instinctively stepped forward but stopped herself. "Stop faking!"

Andrew looked up, sweat beading on his forehead. His black shirt was soaked with blood, clinging to the gruesome wound. He tried to lift his arm, his muscles tensing in pain.

"Can't... move it."

Susan balled her fists. Four years ago, on that rainy night, he had knelt outside her family's villa just like this, letting the storm wash over his wounds. Memory and reality overlapped, making her eyes sting.

"Serves you right!" She snatched the ointment and yanked his collar open. "Turn around!"

When the cotton swab touched his wound, Andrew's muscles stiffened. Susan softened her touch, noticing an old scar on his lower back—a mark from when he took a knife for her.

"Susan." He suddenly turned, his bloody hand gripping her wrist. "Let's start over."

The ointment hit the floor. She tried to pull away, but he laced their fingers together and pressed her palm to his chest. His frantic heartbeat burned through his shirt, searing her fingertips.

"Have you lost your mind? Let go!"

"About four years ago..." His Adam's apple bobbed. "If you say it, I'll believe you."

Susan's pupils contracted. She had waited four years for those words—waited until her heart turned to ash, until... she no longer dared to believe.

"Too late." She laughed coldly. "Andrew, your trust... means nothing to me now."

Before she could finish, the world spun. He pinned her to the couch, his kiss tasting of blood. It was fierce, as if making up for four years of absence.

"But I care." He panted against her forehead. "Susan, goddammit... I still care."

Thunder cracked outside. As she stared into his red-rimmed eyes, Susan remembered that stormy night. Some people, it seemed, couldn't even be hated completely.