Chapter 55
Chapter 55:
She let out a quiet sigh. Taking in the drained pallor of his face, she lowered herself into the chair beside his bed, leaving her hand resting in his.
Silence wrapped around them, broken only by the steady beeping of the monitors and the faint rasp of his breath.
A blend of antiseptic and the warm trace of cedar clung to him, strangely grounding rather than unpleasant.
“Did you always have stomach problems?” she asked at last, filling the awkward quiet.
“It has for years.” Austin’s gaze dropped to their intertwined hands. “Work devoured most of my time. I skipped meals, and eventually it turned into this chronic mess p>
Her mind flashed to images of him in late-night meetings—posture rigid, voice unwavering, focus unbroken until exhaustion claimed him.
The memory stirred a pang of sympathy. It was a stark reminder that even the most unyielding men could be worn down by illness.
“Promise me you’ll eat properly from now on,” she murmured, her tone softening. “Don’t push yourself past the limit p>
A quiet laugh slipped from Austin, but the motion tugged at his stomach, forcing him to pause and catch his breath.
Brinley stiffened at once. “Does it hurt again?” she asked, her voice tight with worry.
𝘠о𝗎𝗋 𝗱aіl𝗒 dо𝗌𝗲 o𝗳 ո𝘰𝘃е𝘭s оn
“It’s nothing.” He gave a slight shake of his head, though the concern in her eyes softened something inside him. “With you looking after me, I wouldn’t dare skip another meal p>
Heat rushed to her cheeks as she snatched her hand back. “Who said I’d be looking after you p>
She pushed herself up and reached for the plates, tidying them to avoid his gaze.
Austin’s eyes followed her as she moved, the trace of a smile still lingering on his lips.
As night deepened, Brinley had just unfolded the makeshift bed when a muffled cough drew her attention.
She looked up to find him staring at the ceiling, a faint crease marring his pale face.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Just a little chilly.” He tugged the quilt higher, his voice even but threaded with weakness. “It’s probably the antipyretic kicking in p>
After hesitating for a heartbeat, Brinley crossed to the wardrobe, pulled out a spare blanket, and draped it carefully over him. “Better now p>
Austin cocooned himself in the added warmth and gave a small nod. “Much better p>
She turned back toward her own bed, but his voice followed her, low and sudden. “You toss and turn a lot when you sleep p>
Brinley froze and glanced back at him.
“I caught you mumbling in your sleep last night,” Austin went on, his mouth curving into a sly grin. “And you kicked the blanket so hard you nearly sent the folding bed’s rail flying p>
Color surged to Brinley’s face. Every part of her wanted to vanish on the spot.
She had dreamed last night—of baking cookies that ended in disaster, the oven exploding in her face. Somewhere in the chaos, she’d been chasing something, maybe even kicking wildly in her sleep…
“You’re making that up,” she shot back, her voice sharp with stubborn pride. “I always sleep soundly. I don’t dream p>
Austin casually lifted his phone, turning it between his fingers before angling the screen toward her with a teasing smile. “Care to see the proof p>