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Winifred was trying to get some water, but when she turned on the tap, nothing came out.
She twisted it harder, and suddenly, a blast of scalding steam shot out. She yelped, the burning pain spreading across the back of her hand.
Winifred was stunned for a moment, her fingers trembling.
Suddenly, a hand reached out from behind and grabbed hers firmly. Winifred turned her head and saw Humbert. Instinctively, she tried to pull away, but he said in a low voice, “Don’t
move.”
In the bathroom, Humbert held her hand under the faucet, rinsing it off. The room was quiet except for the gentle rush of water.
Winifred tried several times to pull her hand away, but Humbert’s grip on her wrist seemed gentle, yet unyielding, making it hard for her to break free. The more she struggled, the tighter his hold seemed to get.
Humbert always seemed untouchable and elegant, but Winifred had seen through him.
Ten years ago, she watched him step out of an internet café, dressed in a pristine white school uniform with every button fastened and a cigarette dangling lazily from his fingers.
At that moment, she could tell he was a rebel at heart. Once he set his mind on something, nothing could sway him.
*****
Winifred kept her fingers under the running water for a full thirty minutes.
During that time, some people walked past the bathroom. A cleaning lady mopped the floor outside, and a few people couldn’t help but stare. Some people even greeted Humbert, saying, “Dr. Pierce!”
Hospitals were always busy, and in those thirty minutes, seven or eight patients and staff members came and went, all throwing surprised glances at Winifred.
Everyone knew Humbert’s reputation for being cold and untouchable, so naturally, people were dying to know who the woman standing next to him was. Winifred could feel her cheeks burning, and she lowered her head.
Humbert couldn’t help but smile as he watched her. She looked as though she wished she could disappear into the ground.
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The whole scene was almost amusing–she seemed to think that merely being near him was some kind of bad luck, desperate to escape at the first opportunity.
Realizing this, he found it even more amusing. While explaining how to care for a burn, he unconsciously stroked her skin, which felt smooth and delicate.
He didn’t even notice he was doing it. His instincts took over before his mind had a chance to catch up.
He and Winifred weren’t friends or lovers. They had only met a few times in a patient- physician relationship.
Humbert had seen his fair share of beautiful women. In fact, he was constantly surrounded by them–wealthy socialites with perfect features and impeccable makeup, clad in designer clothes.
Winifred, on the other hand, was married and had a daughter. Yet, for some reason, he couldn’t help but be irresistibly drawn to her.
Humbert looked at her. She bowed her head with the graceful curve of her neck exposed. A few strands of her hair slipped down, brushing against her cheek and neck.
Those strands just rested there, but to Humbert, it felt as if something was softly tugging at his heart with a tickling sensation spreading through his chest.
At first, his fingers merely traced her wrist, but gradually, his entire palm rested against her skin. His hand, broad and warm from years of training, was so different from a woman’s small hand—effortlessly enveloping her delicate wrist.
Winifred’s hand trembled slightly. She could feel the heat of his palm, spreading through her wrist and sinking deep into her skin.
This kind of contact broke all the boundaries of a normal doctor–patient relationship, turning it into something unmistakably intimate.
Her other hand pressed against the black sink. “Dr. Pierce, please show some respect,” she said, her voice soft and trembling, laced with a hint of reproach.
Her tone was different this time. There was a trace of anger in it. But to Humbert, her irritation didn’t intimidate him at all.
He almost felt the urge to tell her not to look at a man like that.
Her clear eyes burned with a mix of shyness and indignation. As she gazed up at him, they were bright and intense. That look–half sulking, half coy–only made him want to take things further.
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This was the second time Winifred had asked him to show some respect, so Humbert let go of her hand.
Then Winifred pulled her hand back, ready to leave, but as she took a step forward, she found herself still trapped in his space.
Humbert swung one long leg in front of her, his tall frame blocking any chance of escape. He braced his hands on the wall beside her arms and leaned in with his gaze fixed on her face.
They were only inches apart. Humbert stared at her, noticing every flicker in her expression. “There’s no Winifred Nelson in Class 2, Grade 11. So, who the hell are you?”
Her heart skipped a beat as she frowned, deep in thought. Back at the Seafood Diner, when he asked what class she was in, she blurted out, “Class 2.” She never imagined he’d actually verify it.
“Dr. Pierce,” she said, trying to sound calm, “where I went to high school and what class I was in is none of your business. We barely even know each other. You’re way out of line, even for a doctor. I…”
She glanced away, flustered. “I could file a complaint against you.”
Humbert smiled, unfazed, and he casually rattled off an email address, explaining that it was the department’s internal complaint line and that sending it there would get things sorted faster.
When she didn’t respond, Humbert gently tilted her chin up with his fingers. “Remember the email address?”
Winifred replied, “Back then, I went by Wendy Lynn. I transferred to Class 2, Grade 11, in the second semester, and I changed my name later on. I even sent you a love letter once.
“But with all the girls who did the same, I’m sure you wouldn’t remember. So, does that answer your question?”
Winifred’s mind raced as she made up a lie that sounded so convincing that anyone would buy it.
She met his gaze, her eyes calm and unwavering, giving nothing away. But inside, her heart hammered so fiercely that it felt like it might leap right out of her chest.
Wendy Lynn definitely existed, and she really did write a love letter to Humbert.
Winifred added, “Sometime in May of the second semester of Grade 11, you were on the basketball court and almost hit me with the ball.
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“The sun was blazing that day, and you were wearing that light blue number 9 jersey. You looked over and asked if I was okay.
“After the exams in July, I transferred out. My family’s from Jasbrinshire. Right before I left, I blocked you by the stairs and gave you a book.
“I’d heard from some classmates that you were into mystery novels, so I grabbed a famous mystery writer’s book from the shop by the school gate and tucked a love letter inside.
“I used to like you, just like so many other girls. I watched you from afar, countless times, but you probably never noticed me. I was just ordinary, plain, and insignificant. You were different, always in the spotlight and impossible to ignore.
“Humbert, telling you my name doesn’t change anything. I’m just an ordinary person who once had a crush on you. Even if we met face to face, you’d have no idea who I was.”
Winifred’s voice was choked with emotion. She met Humbert’s gaze head–on, telling him the truth about how she had felt for him.
Wendy Lynn was real. The love letter was real. She and Wendy were just two ordinary girls, always blushing whenever they glanced at him from afar.
There had always been a distance between her and Humbert. It wasn’t a wide gap, classmates, they barely exchanged a word for two years in the same classroom.
but as
Wendy had been Nina’s deskmate. Back in high school, Claire had always been around them. That basketball really did almost hit Wendy.
Humbert indeed had come over to check on Wendy, asking if she was okay. Claire had been just a few steps away, watching the whole thing.
As she recounted the story, she couldn’t tell if she was talking about Wendy or if, through Wendy’s story, she was finally revealing her own heart.
Winifred couldn’t hold it in any longer. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and a single drop rolled down her cheek, finally landing on his hand.
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Chapter 22
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
