Chapter 52
Chapter 52:
Twilight faded, and night settled in.
Brinley cleared the last of the dishes, then began considering where she would sleep.
“I’ll stay in the caregiver’s room next door,” she declared with quiet resolve as she gathered her belongings.
Miguel had already arranged it; the suite-like room next door was comfortable enough for her to rest.
But Austin’s expression tightened suddenly. His complexion paled, and his breathing quickened. “My stomach’s acting up,” he admitted, his voice rough.
Brinley froze mid-step and turned back. “Do you want me to call the doctor p>
𝗣𝘰pu𝗅𝗮𝘳 s𝘵o𝘳і𝗲𝘴 o𝘯
He gave a small shake of his head, trying to brush it off, though a flicker of fragility showed in his eyes. “No. It’s an old problem. I can manage. Just… if it gets worse in the middle of the night, it’s hard being alone p>
Her gaze lingered on his bloodless face, and her resolve wavered.
Austin was, after all, a patient. If something did happen…
“There’s a call bell in the ward,” she pointed out, steady on the surface, though unease threaded her tone.
Austin grumbled, a soft note of grievance in his voice. “That bell is way too loud. I’m not feeling well. All I need is proper rest—nothing else p>
Brinley’s words caught in her throat. She had nothing ready to counter that.
Her gaze shifted from the folded caregiver’s bed in the corner to his wide, guileless eyes, and finally she let out a weary sigh. “Fine. I’ll sleep on the folding bed p>
She told herself it made no difference—sleep was just sleep, no matter where it happened.
Resolute, she unfolded the narrow frame with brisk efficiency, smoothed out her sheets, and spread a blanket across it.
Austin’s gaze lingered on her small, diligent figure. A flicker of quiet satisfaction flashed through his eyes before he lowered his lids again, feigning weakness.
Night settled thick around the ward, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the monitors.
Brinley drifted off quickly, her breathing evening into the steady cadence of sleep.
After a long silence, Austin’s lashes lifted. In the silvery wash of moonlight, his gaze lingered on the folding bed.
Brinley lay curled beneath her blanket, her brow faintly knit as if trapped in a nightmare.
She murmured drowsily, her lips brushing the pillow, “Austin, you jerk… sneaking off with my cookies again p>
A low laugh rumbled in Austin’s chest as he reached for his phone on the bedside table. With practiced quiet, he switched it to silent, then angled the camera and captured her sleeping face.
On the screen, a soft crease touched her brows, yet an innocent smile tugged at her lips, making her look almost childlike.
The sight pulled him back to that night years ago at the Moore Estate banquet—when she had been the only one bold enough to stand at his side.
The moonlight then had been just as gentle, wrapping her in silver, lending her an untouchable grace.
The image on his phone dimmed, but the warmth in his eyes remained. He slipped the device back onto the table, leaned into the pillow, and let a tender smile linger as sleep reclaimed him.
By morning, the muffled sound of coughing dragged Brinley from her dreams.
She rubbed her eyes and blinked toward the bed. Austin sat half upright, one hand pressed to his chest as a fit of coughs wracked him, his complexion paler than it had been the night before.