Dear Ex-wife Marry Me novel (Maja) novel Chapter 1382

On the third night, Ian's chest wasn't aching as much, and he could finally get out of bed.

Standing in the hallway on the seventh floor, he heard a chime of his phone—a message notifying him that the seventh floor would undergo electrical repairs and there would be a blackout for ten minutes.

He paid no attention to the message, instead gazing vacantly outside.

Suddenly, darkness swallowed the seventh floor.

And Ian heard Maja's voice.

Having just stepped out of the bathroom, Maja began calling out for him.

Ian's mind froze for a moment, forgetting to respond right away.

Through the nearby balcony window, which was faintly lit by the lights outside, he watched Maja panicking as she opened the cupboard.

"Ian?"

She even threw back the curtains and checked another rooms.

"Ian!"

"Ian!"

Her voice went from initial confusion to outright panic.

Ian's cigarette trembled between his fingers. He burnt his fingertips, and only then he remembered to reply.

"Maja, I'm here."

He slid the balcony door open. And Maja, still frantically searching for him, went rigid, quickly rushing over to him, and examining him from head to toe.

"Are you okay? You scared the hell out of me."

It was too dark inside to see him properly, but she stubbornly checked him over anyway.

Ian suddenly pulled her into a tight embrace.

He was much taller than her, and with this action, he could envelop her completely in his arms.

He buried his head in her neck and said nothing, just holding her close.

Maja didn't speak either, not knowing what to say.

After a moment, she felt tears on her neck.

"I'm sorry, Maja. I'm so sorry."

Ian choked out, his grip so tight that it was almost suffocating.

Maja felt the pain from his hold, but it gave her a sense of security.

At that moment, she burst into violent sobs, as if all her pent-up emotions were finally being released.

Ian's cry was silent, restrained.

Whereas Maja's cry was loud and heart-wrenching.

Living together in silence was unbearable for him; he'd rather be unconscious.

Maja stared at the ceiling, quietly lifting a hand to rub her eyes.

After a long while, she forced herself to speak coldly.

"Does it still hurt?"

Ian wanted to say it didn't, but feared that would deprive him of the patient’s privileges, so he quickly clutched his chest.

"It kills."

Hearing this, Maja's face filled with concern as she peeled back his shirt. The bandage was unstained with blood, and she sighed in relief.

Ian, watching her worry about him, felt the ache in his heart was even more intense than the pain from the wound.

He quickly pulled her into his embrace, "It doesn't hurt. I lied, I'm sorry. I just didn’t want you to get angry."

He couldn't stand her feeling frightened and anxious.

He wrapped his arms around her tightly, "It really doesn't hurt."

Now, it wasn't the gunshot wound that hurts, but his heart, as if it was being shredded by her heart-wrenching cries.

Maja grasped his hand and rubbed it against her cheek.

She said nothing, but her silence spoke volumes.