Lyra instinctively withdrew her foot: "Uncle Morris..."
Morris looked up at her.
He was tall and stooping to help her with her shoes was a stark contrast to his usual seriousness, making Lyra's heart skip a beat.
She said a little awkwardly, "I can do it myself."
Stepping on her shoes, she quickly put them on.
Morris didn't say anything, and as he stood up, he brushed her hair behind her, and softly patted her on the back of her shoulder, "Go ahead."
Lyra rushed into the bathroom.
After sorting herself out, she felt thirsty and was about to find water in the ward when it was already handed to her.
Lyra took the warm water he had given her and gratefully said, "Thank you, Uncle Morris."
Morris gazed deeply at her, "There's no need to be so formal between husband and wife."
Lyra almost choked on the water she was drinking.
Morris said, "Or did you forget that we're already married?"
She immediately shook her head, "No, I remember. I am your wife."
