Chapter 266
She unlocked her phone, her fingers steady now, and typed a brief message to Austin: “It’s done. Heading back.”
His reply arrived almost instantly: “Waiting for you.”
Brinley’s lips curved, the first real smile of the day breaking across her face.
By the time the car rolled back to the private hospital, dusk had already slipped across the sky, painting the windows with fading amber light.
Brinley eased open the door to the ward and found Austin propped upright against a mound of pillows, a glossy financial magazine balanced in his hands.
At the sound, he immediately lifted his head. “You’re back.”
His voice, roughened by recent sleep, carried a husky edge. His gaze swept over her in quick assessment, only softening when he confirmed she was unharmed. With that reassurance, he let himself sink back into the cushions.
Crossing the room, Brinley bent to smooth the blankets around him. “How are you feeling? Is your stomach still hurting?”
“It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Austin caught her hand in his, his grip warm and certain. “I was just anxious, waiting for you.”
Color flared across Brinley’s cheeks at his candor. To hide it, she reached for the water glass at his bedside. “Here, drink some water.”
But instead of taking it, Austin angled his head, a boyish glint sparking in his eyes. “My hands are weak… you’ll have to feed me.”
Brinley gave him a look that was equal parts exasperation and affection.
Even in recovery, his knack for shameless charm seemed only to have grown.
Still, she lifted the glass to his lips.
Obedient as ever when indulged, he sipped, though his attention lingered on her rather than the water.
Watching the delicate concentration on her face, he asked suddenly, “The Palmers didn’t give you any trouble, did they?”
She set the glass aside and shook her head. “No. I said everything that needed saying.”
With quiet composure, Brinley recounted the meeting—leaving out Colin’s ridiculous remarks—and explained only that she had severed the last ties with the Palmer family.
Austin listened without interruption, his expression unreadable until she finished. Then he reached out and lightly pinched her cheek, his voice low and approving. “You handled it well.”
A pause followed before his tone dropped deeper, carrying quiet weight. “If any of them bother you again, tell me. I’ll deal with it.”
“Understood.” Brinley’s lips curved in a small smile. “Focus on healing. You don’t need to trouble yourself over them.”
But Austin frowned, tightening his hold on her hand. His eyes locked with hers, earnest and unwavering. “Brinley, you don’t have to shoulder everything alone. I’m here.”
Her chest warmed at his vow, and she squeezed his hand in return. “I know.”
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