Chapter 2 2

I let out a long sigh and turned off my phone.

Nathan lay motionless on the ground, his posture tense, his body trembling slightly. I walked over to him, squatted down, and quietly watched him.

This was the 18-year-old Nathan.

He hadn't yet developed the calm, ruthless demeanor he would have eight years later. He was still a young boy, bullied and unable to fight back, curling up to protect himself.

His pants were pulled down slightly, and he lay there playing possum with his back to me. I patted his shoulder. "Nathan, are you okay?"

He flinched as if electrocuted, then turned to me, gritting his teeth. "Scarlett, did Caleb send you here?"

His face, still somewhat boyish, was flushed with anger and humiliation. It was an expression I had never seen on the calm and composed face of the Nathan I knew from the future.

I couldn't help but stare.

Seeing that I wasn't speaking, he pursed his lips and tried to pull up his pants. But his legs were too weak to support him, and he couldn't manage it.

I reached out to help him with his pants.

He pushed my hand away forcefully, his expression one of utter shock. "What are you doing!"

I replied matter-of-factly, "Helping you with your pants. Or do you want to stay like this?"

"I am not..." He choked on his words, glaring at me fiercely. "I don't need your help! Go away!"

I narrowed my eyes and slapped his butt hard. "Shut up! Lift your upper body."

He stared at me in disbelief. "You... you..."

Inside, I was still the 26-year-old Scarlett. I've experienced everything. But I had never had the chance to bully Nathan like this.

In the past, it was always him who would slap my butt unceremoniously, his voice hoarse as he said, "Scarlett, be good and spread your legs, just this once..."

I quickly shook my head, feeling my face heat up.

Nathan was still looking at me warily, as if I was about to do something terrible to him.

I grabbed his belt. "If you don't want to wear them, I'll take them off."

He hurriedly grabbed the belt, his hand covering mine, then recoiled as if stung by a needle.

Under my gaze, he had no choice but to comply. He propped himself up with his hands and lifted his upper body.

I slowly and methodically helped him with his underwear and pants, even adjusting his private parts' direction.

It was smooth and familiar.

When I helped him into the wheelchair, he was as stiff as a rock.

His pale forehead was scratched, and his cheeks were swollen, probably from a beating.

My gaze moved to his unresponsive legs, and my heart ached.

"I'm sorry, Nathan. I came too late."

If only I had come back sooner, I wouldn't have let him end up in a wheelchair.

In the previous life, he went abroad not long after this incident. Seven years later, he was successful, but his legs never fully recovered. He couldn't walk independently for long periods and needed long-term rehabilitation. On rainy days, the pain was so bad he couldn't stand.

I rested my head on his thigh.

I really wanted to heal you sooner.

If your body were whole, you wouldn't have to endure so much hardship and mental trauma.

And you wouldn't have given up on yourself so easily after I died.

Nathan looked exhausted. "Scarlett, what game are you playing now?"

"What does Caleb want this time? Whatever I have, you can take it all."

"Stop playing games with me."