Chapter 98

“I was just worried about you.” She set the bowl of soup on the side table, her voice gentle and soft.
“And what exactly are you worried about?” For once, a faint smile touched Harrison’s lips, his eyes surprisingly warm.
“I was worried you might be hungry.” She glanced at his face, her tone cautious. “Logan mentioned your leg
The smile faded from Harrison’s face, his expression cooling.
“Logan does have a lot to say, doesn’t he?” Thɪs chapter is updated by
Worried he’d blame Logan, she quickly knelt in front of him, taking his hand and giving it a little shake. “I made him tell me, okay? Don’t be mad at him.”
“Go do your own thing. I’ll just stay here for a while.” He ruffled her hair gently as he spoke.
“I won’t.” Anastasia’s heart ached at the emptiness in his eyes. “I want to stay here with you.”
She tilted her chin, looking up at him. “I made this soup myself. Won’t you try a little? Please?”
He glanced down, skeptical. “Since when do you know how to cook, Ana?” “Um, just a little.” Anastasia’s gaze fluttered away, sheepish and a bit uncertain.
It wasn’t a total lie… right? She did know a little, after all!
The fact that she’d actually cooked for him softened Harrison’s expression-just a little. Still, he insisted, “Go downstairs, Ana.”
But Anastasia stayed put. “Babe, are you upset? Is it… because of your leg?”
She’d wanted to mention his illness, but she knew how sensitive he was about it. Instead, she tiptoed around it, only bringing up the injury.
Even so, a shadow flickered across Harrison’s sharp features.
But Anastasia wasn’t scared at all. She clung to his hand, saying, “Now that you’re healed, how about we leave the wheelchair behind?”
She pretended not to notice his intimidating look, laying her cheek against his knee, burying her face in his palm, her voice muffled and pouty. “I hate seeing you in that chair. Every day, I hope you’ll stand up and go out with me.”
“Other girls’ husbands take them shopping. Aren’t you going to take me?”
“And people always say my husband is old and ugly, but they’re so wrong. I want to walk out with you and make them eat their words!”
Her voice was laced with hurt.
Harrison was silent for a moment. Then he lifted her face, meeting those bright, clear eyes rimmed with red. She pressed her lips together, stubbornly holding back tears.
His heart seemed to tremble. After a long pause, he let out a silent sigh, his voice rough. “Okay.”
“Okay what?” Anastasia pressed immediately.
“I won’t use the wheelchair anymore,” he said. After a beat, he added, ” and I’ll take you out, let them see for themselves.”
A smile broke across Anastasia’s face. “I knew you were the best!”
“Then you need to eat well, too!” She jumped up, reaching for the soup to bring it to him.
But suddenly, he grabbed her hand, pulling her off balance so she nearly fell into his lap.
“What happened to your hand?” His grip was unyielding as he examined her wrist, eyes darkening when he saw two reddened marks on her fair skin.
“I just burned it a little Anastasia glanced at his face, guilty, trying to tug her hand free, but he didn’t let go.
“You burned yourself cooking?”
“Yeah
Harrison sighed. “Did you put anything on it?”
Anastasia couldn’t lie to him, but telling the truth felt dangerous-she just knew he’d be angry. So she mumbled, barely audible, It doesn’t really hurt.”
No sooner had she spoken than he pinched her cheek and pulled her into his arms, her face bumping into his chest.
“Little liar.”
Rubbing her nose where it hit him, Anastasia blinked up in surprise.
-He was standing!