My Husband Chose My Sister

I twisted my ankle while we were out shopping. My sister cut her finger.

When Gilbert Winfield arrived, he went to her first.

I sat on the chair outside the pharmacy and watched him crouch on the floor, cradling her hand as he dabbed on the antiseptic.

"Does it hurt? How could you be so careless?"

My ankle had swollen too much for my shoe to fit.

Ten minutes later he came over and handed me a bottle of water.

"I'll take your sister home first. Her cut could get infected if it isn't bandaged. Wait here for ten minutes, I'll come right back for you."

Forty minutes passed.