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Reclaiming Her Heart

Chapter 911
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Chapter 911 If He Didn't Like You Selena's fingers twitched as she glanced up at him.

Paul pulled out a cigarette, meeting her eyes with a blank stare.

Selena didn't feel hurt; instead, she slowly got to her feet. "What's this about?" Was it because of Raymond, or because she had once crossed Emily? Paul gave her a quick once-over. No visible injuries, maybe just a twisted ankle, but she seemed pretty lively now.

Unlike Raymond, who'd been in and out of the ER and nearly died.

Paul's voice was sharp, "Raymond got seriously hurt because of you. You're right outside his room, and you won't go in to see him?" Selena got it right away; it was about Raymond.

She said, "Someone's taking care of him." Brenda was crying her eyes out, and she was carrying Raymond's baby.

Paul found it almost funny, but his face turned dark as he shoved her against the wall. "Selena, if he didn't care about you, I'd kill you right now." Selena's neck was being squeezed, and she struggled to breathe. She glared at Paul.

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Paul was nothing like Raymond. Raymond had this noble vibe, while Paul was all dark and dangerous.

Not much was known about Paul in Silver Bay City. Besides being close to Raymond and a few others, he was always dealing with weapons.

He was like a weapon himself, cold and unfeeling.

Selena was in pain from the chokehold, but her eyes stayed defiant and calm.

Paul let go of her, lit his cigarette, and didn't care they were in a hospital.

A nurse passing by wanted to say something but was scared off by his menacing vibe and quickly walked away.

Paul took a drag and then said, "Selena, so you don't care about him, huh?" "He doesn't care aboutthat much," Selena said, rubbing her neck to ease the pain.

Paul suddenly laughed, his face turning scary as he grabbed her chin. "He dragged you out of that mudslide for a whole mile. The ground was covered in blood. He did emergency work on your leg; otherwise, it would've been useless. Selena, I should've taken a picture for you. I've never seen him like that." Covered in dirt, Raymond's clothes were in tatters, a gunshot wound on his chest turning white, and mud all over his head.

Dragging her unconscious body, Raymond crawled a mile on that road before collapsing, only to be found by rescuers.

If this wasn't love, then what was? How could Selena just say stuff like that? In sways, Paul and Raymond were pretty similar.

But Paul didn't give a damn about women, always using them as tools to blow off steam, while Raymond was just stubborn and harsh with his words. Raymond cared a lot, but he barely showed it.

Growing up neglected, he knew that speaking the truth didn't get you anywhere.

Paul let go of her, lit another cigarette, and said flatly, "If you don't like him, just say it. But don't ever say he doesn't like you." Raymond was crazy about Selena.

Selena was released, and a red mark appeared on her chin from Paul's grip.

She suddenly remembered what the doctor had said, that someone had treated her leg in tand that she should thank Raymond.

Now Paul was saying the sthing, meaning Raymond had woken up after they got swept into the flood.

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She suddenly felt unbearable pain, like something had shattered her heart, making her almost double over in agony.

She wanted to cough but couldn't when she opened her mouth.

Paul didn't want to look at her and headed straight to the smoking area.

When he reached the crutch, he thought for a moment and kicked it back.

Selena didn't pick it up but leaned against the cold wall, trying to calm her boiling emotions.

She didn't know how long it took before she felt her heart ease a bit. She bent down to pick up the crutch and returned to the ward. Lying on the hospital bed, she suddenly felt a sharp, indescribable pain in her heart. She curled up, tightly wrapping herself in the blanket.

Paul hadn't been very clear, but she knew how seriously Raymond was injured at the time. How did he manage to drag her? She didn't dare to think about it.

Before she married Raymond, she had seen him from a distance once. At that tshe was following Steve, standing in the shadows.

He was surrounded by people, staring indifferently at the wine glass in his hand, with an aloof attitude that showed he didn't want to talk to anyone around him. Steve had even cursed at the time, "Such a young age, so pretentious, so picky. Penny, don't ever be like him." She had only seen him from a distance, and what stuck more was Steve's words, "so picky." But for someone who painted, he was indeed very good-looking.

So she couldn't imagine how disheveled he, such a proud person, could be.