Maybe This Time

Chapter 3

-Bernadette's Time-

Summer started barking as soon as he saw me with a leash in my hand. It was time for his usual walk around the subdivision. It’s also our bonding time as well. Plus, I can lose some excess fats in the process. So, it’s definitely a win-win situation for the two of us.

We made one whole round and then decided to go to the mini-park as our last stop. I was leisurely walking when suddenly, out of the blue, Summer ran ahead so fast that I wasn’t able to catch up with him. The result? A wounded knee.

Gaaah it really hurts! Tears started to form in my eyes. Then from my peripheral vision a guy went to me and asked if I was okay.

“Try falling down and wound your knee. Then ask yourself if you’re okay,” I retorted. Asking the obvious, mister?

“Sorry, Bernadette.”

There’s only one person who called me using my first name in a long, long, long time. When I looked up to see the speaker, I was right.

It was Caleb.

“Here, let me help you sit at the bench.”

He carried me – bridal style, mind you – and made me sat at one of the benches. I hope the orange color of the setting sun would cover up the blush emerging from my cheeks at a lightning-like speed. I suddenly saw Summer running towards me. He won’t be getting his treat later.

Caleb then kneeled in front of me and inspected my wound. It stings so badly. He looked at me and gave an assuring smile.

“It’s nothing serious. Good thing I have my first aid kit with me.”

I saw him taking the bag beside me and looked for the said kit. Maybe he was already here before I came. My eyes widened in horror as I saw him take out the cotton balls and the alcohol.

“No… no, no, no, NO! No alcohol, please?”

“Well, we have to clean that wound, Bernadette.”

“Water would be okay.”

“I’ll wash it first with water, but we still have to cleanse it with alcohol to remove the germs.”

“B-but… but…”

He didn’t let me finish as he got his water bottle and poured its content on my wounded knee. Afterwards, he poured the dreaded alcohol on the cotton balls.

“It won’t hurt.”

“Promise?”