Chapter 51
Chapter 51:
The moment shattered when the door opened.
Miguel stepped inside, arms full of files. At the sight before him, he nearly dropped everything. “Mr. Moore… Mrs. Moore… I—I didn’t see a thing p>
Brinley jolted upright, wrenching free of Austin’s arms, and hurried across the room. She sank onto the sofa with her back turned, as if distance could smother the heat rising in her chest.
Austin’s eyes followed her retreat, amusement glinting in their depths even as his voice stayed deceptively calm. “What’s wrong p>
Only then did Miguel shuffle forward, thrust the folder into Austin’s hand, and practically flee.
Brinley remained seated, pressing her palms against her knees until her pulse finally steadied. At last, she risked a glance over her shoulder.
Austin was already absorbed in the paperwork again, his profile set in cool, rigid lines, as if the charged moment between them had been nothing more than her imagination.
𝗟a𝗍𝖾𝘀𝘵 𝗰hа𝗽𝗍е𝘳𝘀 𝘰ո
She gave a small shake of her head, as if that could scatter the tangle of thoughts. Her voice came out stiff as she muttered, “I’ll go see about dinner p>
Without waiting for his answer, she slipped out the door, not daring to look back.
Only when the hallway closed around her did she release a long, shaky breath.
After a brief pause, she gave in and went to warm up another bowl of porridge for Austin.
Lately, his meals had been reduced to nothing but liquid food—three rounds of porridge each day.
This was already the third time she had reheated it for him today.
At seven that morning, the first bowl had to be lukewarm, not scalding. By noon, the second one needed to be just right, warmed through to perfection. Now, for the late-afternoon portion, the porridge needed only half a minute.
When Brinley stepped back into the room, she found Austin propped against the headboard, documents spread in his hands. His gaze lifted as she entered, and the corner of his mouth curved into a faint smile.
“You don’t have to put yourself through all this,” he murmured, turning a page with deliberate ease, his voice roughened by illness. “I’m not that picky p>
Brinley shot back, slamming the steaming bowl onto the bedside table. “That’s exactly why you landed yourself in the hospital p>
She scooped up a spoonful, blew on it until the steam thinned, and held it firmly to his lips. Her voice was stiff and clipped. “Open up p>
Austin didn’t move, his gaze fixed on her instead.
“What now?” Her shoulders tightened under his silent stare. She pushed the spoon closer. “Come on. Eat it before it cools p>
At last, Austin parted his lips and swallowed the porridge as its gentle warmth slid down his throat.
His eyes lingered on her, and he found himself thinking, strangely, that perhaps this bout of gastric bleeding hadn’t been entirely pointless.
“Want something else tomorrow?” Brinley asked as she drew the spoon back, dishing out half a bowl for herself. “The doctor said you could try other foods p>
Austin arched a brow, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. “You planning to cook it yourself p>
Brinley shot him a sharp glare. “Of course not! I’ll get someone else to do the cooking p>
She hadn’t forgotten her catastrophic attempts in the kitchen. As an afterthought, she muttered, “Or I’ll ask the butler to send something up p>
Austin chuckled under his breath, but the motion tugged at his stomach, making him wince and let out a low groan.
Alarmed, Brinley immediately set her bowl down. “What is it now?” she asked, her voice tight with worry.
“Just wishing I could eat something you make,” Austin murmured gently.
Brinley huffed in exasperation. “Get well first. Then you can chase down every bizarre craving you want p>