Chapter 282

I struggled to help Adrian Roland into bed. The moment my fingertips brushed his arm, I recoiled as if shocked.

"Cover yourself first." My voice tightened as I turned away.

The rustle of fabric sounded behind me, followed by a suppressed groan. "...Done."

That hoarse voice sent shivers down my spine.

Benjamin Langley had mentioned his sore throat and specially prepared pear soup.

When I turned back, I found him sunken weakly into the mattress. His pale complexion made his lips appear bloodless, beads of sweat glistening at his temples.

"Does it hurt badly?"

He shook his head, Adam's apple bobbing. "Old injury."

"From the car accident?"

"Mhm." His lips twisted slightly. "Looks fine outwardly, but flares up when the weather changes."

Instinctively, I reached for my phone. "Where are your painkillers?"

"At the office." He exhaled unevenly. "Vincent's away, and Penny's just a girl—"

Thunder roared outside as raindrops pelted the windows.

Suddenly, his fingers grazed the back of my hand. "Don't worry."

I jerked my hand away. His suspended fingers slowly curled into emptiness.

"Sorry." His voice grew rougher.

"Was it... serious back then?"

"Can't recall." His gaze fixed on the ceiling. "Woke up with tubes everywhere. Three months in bed."

"Memory loss?"

"Brain trauma, the doctors said." A bitter smile. "Only heard it was a black sedan. Rain messed up the surveillance."

My fingers twisted the fabric of my clothes. "So..."

"Karma, I suppose." His eyes suddenly met mine. "All these years, I've thought this was heaven punishing me."

Rain intensified as his voice blended with thunder. "This useless arm will forever remind me of how I failed you."

"Stop."

"When your cancer attacked, it must have hurt a hundred times worse."

Lightning flashed, illuminating his red-rimmed eyes.

"Still afraid of thunder?" he asked softly.

I watched the rain-streaked window. "I was."

"And now?"

"Now I know fear comes from expecting someone to come." My voice trembled. "Two hundred twenty-seven thunderclaps. One hundred sixteen storms. I counted every one."

His breathing hitched.

"Every time headlights flashed, I thought it was you." My nails dug into my palms. "But it was always... Mr. Alistair who came."

"Stella..."

"He paid my mother's medical bills. Stayed through my chemo." Tears splashed onto my hands. "Even that warmth was stolen."

Only the sound of rain filled the room.

"I'm talking too much today." I wiped my face.

But he smiled. "I like listening."

"To me talk about another man?"

"As long as you were happy then." His voice dropped suddenly. "Better than hearing about those five years..."

Silence fell between us.

Nine years stretched like a chasm, childhood promises long eroded.

"Drink your soup." I stood, heading toward the study. "Benjamin made it special."

When I handed him the celadon bowl, our fingers touched. He drained it in one gulp, throat working.

"Actually..." He spoke abruptly. "My throat isn't sore from illness."

I froze.

"Snuck a cigarette earlier." A self-deprecating smile. "Just like when you'd catch me smoking on the balcony."

Amidst the rain, I heard my heart collapse.