Seven Years After the Assault，My Husband Fell for the Patient I Saved

Seven years since it happened, I threw up again during intimacy.

Asher, who had been by my side through every grueling therapy session, finally snapped.

“If you hadn’t insisted on saving Seraphina from that rapist, you wouldn’t have been targeted in retaliation! You’re a damn psychologist, Iris! Why can’t you fix yourself?”

As he cleaned up my vomit, he scrubbed my skin raw with the brush.

“You’re the one who’s been defiled and broken, I haven’t even called you disgusting, why are you always throwing up?”

I had prepared a surprise for Asher, wanting to explain everything.