"Grandpa, how can you say that? Nathan got hurt because he was trying to save me." Titus Zane rebutted unhappily and then lifted the covers and got out of bed, "Aunt, can you take me to see Nathan?"
Abigail Zimmerman looked at her father-in-law, and seeing that he had no objections, she nodded in agreement.
In the ICU, Titus Zane sat in front of the hospital bed, grasping Nathan Moore’s hand with both of his, pressing it against his face, gently caressing it.
"Nathan, does it hurt a lot..." Being stabbed in the back five times and losing so much blood must be terribly painful.
"Nathan, I’m sorry. It’s my fault you got dragged into this. If I hadn’t joined... none of this trouble would have happened..."
On the hospital bed, the sleeping man slightly furrowed his brows. Seeing that, Titus Zane placed his hand back on the bed, his slender fingers covering Nathan Moore’s forehead, gently stroking, "Don’t furrow your brow, you said that from now on, we have to be happy,"
The sleeping man seemed to hear Titus Zane’s words, and his tightly-knit brows relaxed.
Titus Zane smiled at the corners of his lips, which was followed by a hiss of pain. He touched the corner of his own mouth with his other hand—bruises on his face had not yet completely faded, and a cut at the corner of his mouth hadn’t healed.
Fingertips touching Nathan Moore’s cheekbone, covered in bruises, he gently caressed it, "Does it hurt a lot? Let me rub it for you..."
After rubbing for a while, Titus Zane continued to talk to himself, "Nathan Moore, why are you so foolish? If we couldn’t fight them off, we should have just run away together. You’re all grown up, how can you not understand such a basic tactic..."
The closed-eyed, sleeping man’s brows furrowed again, with a voice following the sounds, "I was worried we wouldn’t be able to escape..."
Without warning, tears fell from Titus Zane’s eyes again. He curled his lips, leaning over the hospital bed, holding Nathan Moore’s face with both hands, "Saying you’re foolish yet not willing to admit it, it’s always better for two to be together rather than one being alone. If something were to happen to you, how could I go on living by myself..."
"I’m alright, aren’t I," Nathan Moore sighed helplessly. As he turned his head, he winced from the pain in his back wound and involuntarily inhaled sharply.
"You’re in this state, and still you say you’re fine!" Titus Zane pouted, betraying his feelings of grievance, which was really more about his heartache.
"Nathan Moore, do you know how much it hurts me to see you like this?"
"It hurts me more to see you injured," Nathan Moore reached out and grabbed Titus Zane’s wrist, brought it to his lips and kissed it. Seeing her unscathed, his own wounds felt like nothing.
"Nathan Moore..." Titus Zane muttered softly. Unable to move, Nathan Moore could only turn his gaze to look at her, his expression serious, "I had a dream, and in the dream, you told me we were going to have a baby..."
Remembering what happened in the emergency room, Titus Zane raised his hand and lightly punched Nathan Moore. Her small fist hit his shoulder, not with much force, almost like she was acting petulantly.
"And you said, Nathan Moore, do you realize you almost scared me to death? I thought you were going to die..." As she spoke, Titus Zane felt aggrieved, tears welling up in her eyes, "Do you know how desperate I felt at that moment? Nathan Moore, you’re going to scare me to death..."
"I’m sorry," Nathan Moore gripped Titus Zane’s hand and kissed it again, "Darling, I made you sad."
Letting Nathan Moore’s lips kiss her hand and palm repeatedly, Titus Zane sobbed and said, "Thank you, Nathan Moore,"
"Silly, we’re husband and wife,"
Nathan Moore wrapped his long arm around Titus Zane’s neck, and Titus Zane willingly pressed his face against Nathan Moore’s side.