The Wrong Woman

Emily tenderly stroked Suzanne’s back, playing the part of a comforting mother.

“Mrs. Morrison, don’t be too upset. General Morrison is busy with work. He’s been knee-deep in sorting out drill plans; and after what you’ve been through, the whole military base is on high alert.

“Everyone’s under scrutiny. He can’t break away from his duties. during the day, so he’s giving up his downtime just to be by your side. Trust me, General Morrison does care about you.”

Suzanne felt a little better hearing the reassurance. She snuggled into Emily’s embrace like a kid seeking comfort. “Do you really think he cares about someone like me?”

Emily continued to soothe her with gentle pats. “Mrs. Morrison, even though we’ve only known each other for a short time, I’m aware that you’re a great person. Why doubt yourself?”

It seemed like Suzanne had found someone to confide in. She held onto Emily’s shoulder and tearfully exclaimed, “Emily, I truly love hir What should I do?”

Emily grinned with a touch of fondness and sighed. “Aw, sweethea he’s your husband. It’s normal for you to love him! If you’re concerne about him pulling all-nighters just to be with you, why not speed u your recovery and head back to the dormitory? That way, General Morrison can finally get some well- deserved rest.”

“But my hand’s still healing. Going back to the dormitory would be a bit of a hassle,” Suzanne said, sniffling as she pulled away from Emily’s shoulder.

Emily’s eyes crinkled into a smile. Your hands look pretty good to

+25 BONUS

1. You’re eating and drinking just fine.”

“Yeah, but I have to keep my wound dry, and I can’t change the dressing on my own.” Suzanne looked a bit troubled.

“Oh, I thought it was a big deal.” Emily chuckled. “Bathing and changing the dressing only takes you about 15 minutes. I’m sure General Morrison can spare that time for you.”

Suzanne’s cheeks turned a shade of pink as she cast her eyes downward. The idea of asking him for help was just too much for her. She mumbled shyly, “He can’t.”

Emily looked surprised. “Huh? Why?”

Suzanne gently took Emily’s arm and led her back to the hospital.

As they walked, she spoke in a gentle tone, “Emily, I want to go back. Could you come over every night to help me with bathing and

changing the dressing? I’ll pay you extra.”

“But my salary is from General Morrison. It wouldn’t be right for me to ask for money,” Emily explained.

“Emily, does that mean you agree?”

“Mrs. Morrison, if you don’t want to trouble General Morrison, then only fair for me to take care of you.”

Suzanne couldn’t contain her joy. Her heart was already back w Nathan. “Thanks a bunch, Emily.”

At the crack of dawn, Suzanne packed her belongings with excitement. She quickly changed into her own clothes and heade back to the dormitory.

Outside the apartment building, Suzanne spotted a bunch of arme soldiers keeping watch at the gate.

+25 BONUS Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

Security was definitely on high alert. The soldiers recognized Suzanne, and with a polite salute, they allowed her to pass through.

Suzanne headed upstairs and reached the door. She took a deep

breath before gathering the courage to punch in the passcode and push the door open.

Once inside, she found Nathan in the midst of putting on a black

shirt. The buttons were still undone and her abrupt entrance caught him off guard.

Suzanne’s face flushed inexplicably, and she found herself

unintentionally staring at his chest.

Feeling a little awkward, she quickly lowered her head and turned around. Unsure of what else to do in this situation, she meekly closed the door behind her.

With her back turned to Nathan, Suzanne couldn’t shake the weight in her heart. She realized he had only taken a two-hour rest and was already preparing to head back to work.

As Nathan regained his senses, he continued buttoning up his shirt and eventually broke the silence. “Why are you back?”

“I’m fine now,” Suzanne responded, turning slowly to face Nathan.

Having only fastened two buttons, Nathan approached Suzanne a gently took her hand. “Has the wound scabbed over?”