After getting into the car, Joseph first checked her arm, but Irish dodged it.
He sighed and whispered, "What happened to your arm?"
Irish was completely silent and twisted her head to one side.
Joseph reached out to untie her button to check, but she patted his hand and glared at him, "Don't touch me!"
She was sharp as a hedgehog with thorns all over her body.
Joseph suddenly remembered that she had fallen on the sofa. His heart was tight, and naturally, he blamed himself for not being gentle, thinking more about whether she had been hurt or not. But Irish refused and looked cold, and he did not dare to act for fear that she would be hurt by accident again, so he had to give up.
Reaching out, he interlocked her hand, though she was reluctant.
He whispered softly, "It was my fault, no, I did everything wrong. Irish, will you forgive me?"
Irish closed her lips, did not speak, and her eyes kept looking away. She did not look at him.
