Chapter 377
[ 504 words ]
Chapter 377:
Brenna let out a long breath, her eyes darting between the couple as she recalibrated her understanding of the situation. She had known about the marriage, but seeing the legendary Colonel in the flesh was a far more volatile experience than hearing about him in conversation.
Jarrod ignored her. He ignored the curious glances from the nurses who were pretending not to watch. His world had narrowed to the woman in his arms.
He tightened his grip slightly, his voice a low murmur against her hair. “Let’s go home.”
Caroline didn’t resist. She was too exhausted, too overwhelmed. She let him lead her toward the elevators, his presence a solid, unyielding wall around her, shutting out the rest of the world.
J𝘰іn 𝘁𝘩𝗲 𝗰о𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝗂ty 𝗮𝗍 𝘨𝘢𝗅𝗇оve𝗹s.co𝗆
As they reached the elevator bank, Brenna caught up to them. She touched Caroline’s arm, her eyes full of the familiar, shared history they had navigated together—including the nightmare of the past few months.
“We’ll talk later,” Brenna said, her voice low and urgent.
Caroline gave her a grateful, apologetic look and nodded.
The elevator doors slid open. Jarrod guided her inside, his left hand a warm, heavy weight on the small of her back while his right arm remained carefully braced against his side. Just as the doors were about to close, Caroline suddenly twisted away from him, her body going rigid.
“I can’t leave,” she said, her voice flat and cold. “Donovan.”
The warmth in Jarrod’s expression vanished, replaced by a familiar, shuttered hardness. He looked at her, his jaw tight.
“He’ll be taken care of,” he said, his voice a low growl. “I’ve already arranged for the best private specialists. Round-the-clock care.”
“He doesn’t need a specialist, Jarrod,” Caroline shot back, shaking her head. “He needs his daughter.”
She turned and walked out of the elevator just as the doors slid shut, leaving him standing alone inside. She heard him curse under his breath before the doors closed completely.
She walked back down the hall to her father’s room, her heart a cold, heavy stone in her chest. She could feel Jarrod’s presence behind her, a silent, furious shadow. She didn’t care.
She pushed open the door to Room 514. Donovan was back in bed, sitting up against the pillows, staring at the blank television screen on the opposite wall. His face was pale, his eyes hollow.
When he saw Caroline, a flicker of pained anger returned to his expression.
Jarrod stopped at the doorway, his large frame filling the entrance, but he didn’t come in. He was giving them space.
“You knew,” Donovan said. It wasn’t a question. His voice was a dry, rasping whisper. “From the beginning. You knew how bad the glioblastoma was.”
The accusation hit Caroline with the force of a physical blow. She couldn’t lie. Not anymore. She nodded, a single, miserable jerk of her head. “Yes.”
Tears welled in Donovan’s eyes, spilling down his pale cheeks. “Why?” he whispered. “Why would you lie to me? Why would you treat me like a child? Like an idiot?”
The anger in his voice was eclipsed by the raw hurt of betrayal.
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