But he hadn't made a sound. He'd carried her forward step by step, his back slightly hunched, careful not to let her fall.
At that moment, she felt like she was his whole world—his life, everything.
When they got home, she applied medicine to his wound and pressed a kiss to his stump.
For all these years, she had treated him as her pride. She wouldn't allow anyone to look down on him. Whoever dared to insult him would receive tenfold—a hundredfold—in return.
He was the man she would protect with her life.
She had sworn to herself: she would never betray him, never abandon him. She would never let him taste the bitterness of despair.
No matter when or where, as long as he turned around, she would be there, standing behind him.
Everyone made mistakes, didn't they?
If he turned back,
