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Alas, Joyce could only keep her true thoughts to herself lest she risked angering Stanley
further. He would think she thought poorly of his character.
Men who struck women never saw themselves at fault; the problems always lay with the
victims.
When it seemed clear that Joyce would not answer his question, Stanley sighed in defeat
and said, “It's fine if you don't want to tell me why. I won't force you.”
“Thank you,” she eked out.
Stanley stretched his scalded hand forward and drawled, “In any case, you should take
care of these burn blisters.”
“Of course.” Joyce nodded and checked his injured hand. The parts which were only red
before were now covered in burn blisters. She yelped, covering her mouth in shock. “What
happened? Why are there blisters already?”
He explained, “The stew was burning hot, and the fats in the dish will only raise the boiling
point past that of pure water. Plus, I've always taken extra care of my hands because I
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇthave to operate frequently. The skin there is more sensitive than any other part of my
body. How could blisters not form under such conditions?”
Joyce shook her head frantically and said, “I'm so sorry. I didn't know that.”
She never imagined the skin across his hands could be even more sensitive than hers.
“It's fine. Just take note of it in the future,” he replied.
“I understand. I'll be more careful in the future. This will not happen again. Mr. Quinn, let
me get the doctor. I have no idea how to deal with blisters.”
As she spoke, Joyce turned toward the door.
Before she could take a step, Stanley called her back.
“There's no need to summon the doctor.” He pointed at the drawers near his headboard
and said, “There's a first aid pouch in the drawer. It contains simple supplies to treat cuts
and burn wounds. You used the same ointment on your father last time. Just use the same
on me.”
“Really?”
Stanley retorted coolly, “I'm a doctor. I wouldn't lie to you about it.”
“Okay, I'll get to it.” Joyce nodded and opened the drawers, retrieving the first aid pouch
inside.
She opened the pouch and confirmed his instructions. “The same ointment, yes?”
“Yes.” He nodded in affirmation.
Joyce closed her eyes and tried to recall the medication and procedures she used to treat
her father's wound. Then, she took all the supplies she needed from the first aid pouch
and began treating Stanley's burns.
She tended to his wound so gently and carefully, trying her best to avoid inflicting the
slightest hint of pain on him as though worried it would infuriate him. Her nervousness
was palpable.
Even Stanley noticed her tension and wanted to help her calm down. Still, he knew
anything he said now would only put her more on edge.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm
He eventually opted to remain silent, hoping she would forget to focus on his mood and
calm down as she concentrated on treating his burn wounds.
At some point, Stanley even closed his eyes.
The simple gesture worked wonders. Joyce relaxed significantly without the pressure of his
scrutiny.
She fretted less over making stupid mistakes when not under his watchful gaze.
Gradually, Joyce calmed down and treated Stanley's blisters more skillfully and quickly.
She finished in no time and tied a ribbon bow to secure a fresh bandage to his hand. Then,
she observed him carefully and uttered, “It's done, Mr. Quinn.”
Stanley slowly opened his eyes, only to see Joyce lowering her gaze to avoid eye contact.
He felt angry and helpless at the same time as he watched her walk on eggshells around
him.
However, he knew he had no one to blame but himself for her present behavior.
“It's done?” asked Stanley.
She nodded. “Yes. Would you like to check on them?”
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