Resent, Reject, Regret

Chapter 809

Chapter 809 stay With Me, Keep Me Company

“You’re wrong. You can help me.” Brendan’s lips began to loom close. His face seemed to be zooming in on her eyes. She still could not make out much of his features, but she could feel his breath washing over her.

She instinctively froze. “How was I supposed to help?”

“Kiss me to relieve me of my pain.”

Deirdre’s expression darkened. ‘This cr*p again?” she snapped and ignored him altogether, rising to her feet as though she was going.

Brendan reached out and caught her in the wrist, and the pain of something being torn open flared on his arm.

He took a shaky breath, and his fingers quivered. Still, he refused to let go.

“Brendan? Are you okay?”

He fixed his eyes on her alarmed expression and reacted with a helpless grimace. “I know you hate my guts, Deirdre, but my injury came from rescuing your friend. Can’t you at least be a little nicer to me while I’m recovering?”

Deirdre found herself having no counterargument. She would freely admit to loathing Brendan with every fiber of her body, so much so that staying with him for more than ten minutes could suffocate her. At the same time, though, she had to admit that it was Brendan who had saved Tobey.

She took a deep breath and lowered her eyes to the floor. “What do you want me to do?”

Brendan added a little force in his hand to pull her in. “Sit with me and keep me company,” he said sincerely.

She frowned. “That’s it?”

He paused and said, “You mean I can ask for more?”

Deirdre almost choked on her own saliva. “No. What I meant was I don’t understand why you insist I sit with you! If all you need is a companion, why not just ask Charlene? She’s the woman you love the most! Have her keep you company. You won’t be as bored as being bound to me, at the very least!”

The name instantly summoned a surge of disgust in his eyes. “Who the h*ll told you she’s the woman I love the most?”

Deirdre laughed self-deprecatingly. “What? You’re going to tell me she’s not now?”

“She’s not.” This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

The certainty in his denial startled her a little.

She decided to drop the thread. This was a sore, cheerless topic, especially when they mentioned it.

Deirdre returned to her spot on the couch and decided to ignore Brendan as much as she could, so she turned on the TV. Unfortunately, she could feel the man’s unsteady breath and noticed how irregular its rhythms were, as though he was suffering great pain. It was a far cry from last night. Brendan at least managed to feign normalcy last night, no matter how much it hurt him.

“Did the doctor use the wrong medicine?” she asked. She could no longer contain her shock.

Brendan’s eyes widened in quiet joy. Deirdre showed concern!

“Maybe the wound was deeper than we thought. Maybe it was infected from last night.”

Deirdre thought about how the man had raced to their mansion as soon as his operation was complete and noted the conflicted sentiment that had arisen.

Brendan seized what he believed was an opening. “But I’m sure the pain would subside if you could make me a nice, warm chicken soup.”

It was something she used to make for him. Since he used to work late into the night, Deirdre would fret about him a lot and would make something warm and comfy to perk him up.

After tasting her pasta, Brendan also began to miss that soup.

Deirdre’s expression turned cold. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I can’t do that. I’m blind.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“I won’t,” she admitted curtly. She did not want a dish representing her guileless, pure love being abused by a man who did not love her anymore.

She used to make that soup because she loved him more than anything else in the world. She loved him unconditionally and wanted nothing back for her sacrifice.

Spending time to make the best chicken soup just seemed right to her back then.

But things were different now. There was no reason for her to do that. It was meaningless.

Brendan espied the cold glare she wore and felt his heart plummeting.