“Does it still hurt?” Hayle asked, gently touching Jaxter's wound, which had turned reddish. The gunshot wound now looked much larger.
“No. It’s just that my left hand still can’t grip strongly,” Jaxter replied, quickly covering his body with a shirt. He didn’t want his perceived deformity to be seen by his wife.
“If that’s the case, we can postpone the horseback riding lesson,” Hayle said, looking at her husband, whom she had just finished examining. The wound had healed, but damaged nerves would not recover quickly or might even remain permanent.
“It’s fine. I’m still able to teach you. Just like last night when I worked on you,” Jaxter said, giving his wife a faint smile. Of course, what had happened last night immediately crossed Hayle’s mind. It wasn’t the first time, but she still
