But it was impossible.

Wilfred quickly snapped out of his thoughts and returned to reality. He knew he could never be Nash. He was Wilfred.

Even if he could not stand by Nina's side as a lover, he could be a friend, a brother. He had dedicated his life to her, and that would have to be enough.

When Nash returned to the bedroom with the medicine, Nina had already finished her bath. Her damp hair fell loosely around her shoulders, filling the room with a faint scent of roses.

Nash quickly wrapped a towel around her hair. "Lower your clothes a bit so I can apply the medicine."

"Okay," Nina complied, and Nash carefully began applying the ointment, his touch gentle.

He even blew softly on her skin to ease any sting from the medicine. He was so worried that the medication might irritate her wounds, that she might feel pain.

But in truth, this kind of pain was nothing to Nina. She recalled her early days as a war journalist, how clumsy she had been amid the chaos of war.

it would take six months to heal, but after just over three months, she was back on the front lines. Since

you alone all these years," Nash's eyes welled up with tears, but he held them back, afraid

were bitter,

felt a lump in her

had not been restricted, he would have been there with her,

done is done. Let's not dwell on the past. What matters now

things were too difficult to say, even

know. No matter what

stay together as a family," Nash reassured her, finishing up the bandaging before pulling her into his arms He held her close for

had showered, they headed to the

face had turned an alarming shade of blue. It

Isn't the Seven-Leaf Clover supposed to

was a skilled

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