Chapter 11 Dress His Wound
At dinner time, Ophelia went to the dining room full of anticipation.
Winford had promised to eat with her.
There was no one at the dining table. She sat down, patiently waiting for him.
But he was nowhere to be seen even as dinner time passed.
She couldn’t help but glance at upstairs. “Where’s Winford?”
Bertha answered flatly, “Mr. Pruitt has something to do.”
“He said he’d eat with me. Did you call him to come down?”
“Yes. He’s busy. Mrs. Pruitt, you may eat without him.”
Ophelia glanced at Bertha and stood up to go upstairs, not saying another word.
Bertha pulled a long face and wanted to stop her, who dodged nimbly and went upstairs.
As Ophelia walked to the door to the study, she knocked on the door. Graham came over to open it and was surprised to see her. “Mrs. Pruitt?”
She looked inside. “Is Winford still busy?”
Before Graham could say anything, Winford’s deep voice rang out from inside.
“What is it?”
Graham moved aside sensibly.
Without him blocking her view, she saw Winford sitting at the spacious desk right away.
He had just put down a file and was tilting his head to look over. His side profile was charming, his temperament was noble and elegant, and his aura was authoritative.
Her heart skipped a beat uncontrollably.
She couldn’t help but wonder, “He’s so attractive. How come I missed it in my past life?”
“Time for dinner,” she reminded him tactfully while leaning against the door frame.
Winford glanced at the time and finally remembered his promise.
“Sorry. I forgot about it.”
“No worries. I’m here to remind you, aren’t I?” She ran over to take the wheelchair, beating Graham to it.
Graham was about to take over the wheelchair, but since Winford didn’t say anything, he withdrew his foot discreetly.
Winford and Ophelia went downstairs.
At the sight of them, Bertha paused, her expression changing slightly.
Upon seeing the food on the table, Winford said, “Next time, just send a servant upstairs; no need to go yourself. You can start without me.”
Ophelia glanced at Bertha. “I told Bertha to call you, but she said she had already done it, and you told her you were busy and were going to skip dinner.”
Bertha’s heart skipped a beat.
Noticing Winford’s gaze on her, she said hurriedly, “Yes, I remember I did go upstairs. I didn’t? Well… I guess I’m getting older. My memories are slipping away from me…”
“My bad. I overlooked that. Bertha, have someone else do it the next time,” Ophelia said, her voice brisk and pleasant to the ear. “Or I’d miss the chance to eat with Winford again.”
Then she shook Winford’s hand and said coquettishly, “Right, Honey?”
Her sudden intimate gesture made Winford freeze a little bit. He lowered his head to look at her hand clinging to his arm and didn’t pull his arm away.
He was a bit distracted and nodded, without even sparing Bertha a glance. “Yes.”
Bertha was dumbfounded.
Then she was furious.
She thought, “Why so dramatic? Stop making a big deal out of this! And Mr. Pruitt actually indulges her? How infuriating!”
Ophelia noticed her expression and smirked.
After dinner, Alfred showed up again.
He was both Winford’s subordinate and doctor.
When Ophelia went back to her room, she saw him and Elva standing at the door to the master bedroom, and Elva had a medical kit in her hand.
He was instructing Elva a few tips when changing Winford’s gauze.
Ophelia squinted at once.
Elva was going to change Winford’s gauze?
She was Winford’s wife. Why was Elva needed?
Upon seeing her, Elva smiled provocatively.
She raised the medical kit and straightened her back, saying, “Mrs. Pruitt, if you’re gonna say anything to me, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait. I’m about to change Mr. Pruitt’s gauze.”
With that, she was about to go inside.
In the next second, Ophelia took the medical kit away.
“What are you doing?” The smile on Elva’s face vanished.
Ophelia said, “Thanks, but you won’t be needed. I’ll do it.”
“On what grounds?” Elva snapped.
“On what grounds?” Ophelia grinned. “Great question. Because I’m Winford’s wife. Why would I let you do it?”
After saying this, she walked inside elegantly, ignoring Elva’s sullen face.
In the room, Winford had just come out of the bathroom. He had changed into a bathrobe, his firm, sexy chest faintly visible.
Ophelia glanced over, and the scenes from last night flashed across her mind reflexively right away. Even her ears turned red.
“You?” Winford was surprised to see her.
One word from him calmed her down immediately.
She felt upset, thinking, “Why? Can’t it be me?
“Who’s he looking forward to seeing? Elva?
“If I hadn’t seen Elva at the door, she would have come in already.”
Thinking of this, she felt even more down. She said, “I’m here to change your gauze.”
After a pause, Winford said, “You don’t have to do this. Go and take a rest. Let someone else handle it.”
“Who else?” Ophelia blurted out. Then, realizing her tone was a bit harsh, and it sounded like she was questioning him, she cleared her throat and added, “I’m your wife. Who else but me?”
Though they hadn’t registered their marriage yet because of his leg injury, it was only a matter of time. So, she said matter-of-factly with a huff, “I insist!”
Winford was at a loss for words.
He didn’t want her to see his hideous wound, so he refused her tactfully. Yet, seeing how stubborn she was, he felt a bit helpless, which was quite rare.
“Come here then.”
His injury was on his right calf, and as she unwrapped the gauze, she saw the extremely horrifying wound.
Her hands trembled a bit.
Looking down at her, who was crouching in front of him, Winford asked gently, his eyes obscure, “Are you frightened?”
“No.” She lowered her head to take out the ointment, her voice muffled. “I’m just thinking it must hurt terribly.”
She had seen more gruesome wounds, and she wasn’t scared at all. She simply felt bad for him.
Winford was stunned for a second by her reaction.
“It doesn’t hurt,” then he said, his voice hoarse.
But she didn’t buy it at all.
She dressed his wound seriously and sighed a breath of relief after she wrapped fresh gauze around his wound.
“Alright then. Go back and get some rest,” he said gently.
She nodded, packed up the medical kit, and then left.
As she stepped out of the door, she saw Elva nearby. Seeing her, Elva glared at her bitterly.
She was in a bad mood again. “Why are you still here?”
“Mr. Pruitt wanted me to dress his wound!” Elva said.
After a pause, Ophelia repeated, “He wanted you to do it?”
Elva snorted triumphantly, “What do you think? So what you replaced me? He kicked you out so soon.”
Ophelia lowered her head slightly and walked quickly back to her room without responding to Elva’s provocation.
Early the next morning, Winford showed up in the dining room, which was rare.
But Ophelia was still down.
Unlike her usual self, she seemed listless throughout the entire meal, which caught his attention.
