“Didn’t you order any takeout for yourself?”
Niamh noticed that Jonathan’s hospital room was completely devoid of food.
Jonathan’s sharp gaze fell on the large, three–tiered lunch carrier in Niamh’s hands.
“I thought you cooked something for me,” he said, his voice cool and distant.
Niamh was taken aback, glancing awkwardly at the lunchbox she was holding.
“This? Oh–this isn’t for you.”
“Then who’s it for?”
There was no mistaking the interrogative edge in Jonathan’s tone.
Niamh frowned.
“Who I made it for doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“What do you mean, it doesn’t have anything to do with me?”
Jonathan tried to sit up, but the pain from his stitches stopped him cold.
Worried he’d tear his wound, Niamh hurried to fetch a doctor. The doctor sternly reminded Jonathan to rest properly and not get worked up.
Jonathan lay back down, looking utterly defeated, as if life had lost all meaning.
Niamh never imagined a meal she’d cooked herself could upset Jonathan this much. He’d eaten her cooking every day before and never seemed especially fond
of it.
“…Just go.”
Jonathan’s words came so abruptly, they caught Niamh off guard.
“There’s no need for you to come tomorrow, either.”
Niamh blinked, feeling as though she’d just been fired by her own patient.
Without saying a word, she left Jonathan’s room.
Before leaving the hospital, she stopped by the chief physician’s offi > check on Jonathan’s recovery.
Word got around that Jonathan had hired another caregiver, and Preston, curious, decided to visit.
1/3
08:05
He found Jonathan looking like someone owed him a fortune.
Preston couldn’t figure out why Jonathan was in such a foul mood. For the past few days, Niamh had been at his side, and in Preston’s mind, she was the nurturing type–Jonathan should’ve been in high spirits.
“Hey, Jonathan, your sister–in–law’s here,” Preston announced as soon as Marina arrived, immediately perking up.
He’d been the one to call Marina, thinking her visit might lift the oppressive atmosphere in the room and put Jonathan in a better mood.
But Jonathan barely glanced at Marina, his expression unmoved.
Sensing he was a third wheel, Preston quickly excused himself, leaving Jonathan and Marina alone.
After leaving the hospital, Preston called Niamh.
“Niamh, what did you do to get Jonathan so riled up?”
Niamh was at her office, trying to catch up on work she’d neglected during her days at the hospital.
“What’s wrong with Jonathan?”
She remembered asking Jonathan’s attending physician–the hospital’s chief of surgery–about his condition before she left. Jonathan was healing well and would be discharged in a few days.
“Physically, he’s fine,” Preston replied. “But honestly, he looks like he’s about to blow a gasket, walking around with his cheeks all puffed out like an angry blowfish.”
Niamh couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image.
“So, are you the one looking after Jonathan now?”
“No way! I’m completely useless at that kind of thing. Marina’s there with him.”
Niamh’s eyes flickered. From the start, Jonathan never should have asked her; Marina was the obvious choice.
But she could guess Jonathan’s reasoning. He’d never want Marina to handle something so tedious and exhausting. As for her–well, Jonathan had always treated her more like a housekeeper than a friend.
Niamh gave a silent, bitter chuckle.
“Oh, by the way, Niamh–mid–next month, can you save a day or two for me?”
Preston’s question piqued her interest.
“What for?”
“There’s a car race in Coralis. Want to come with me?”
“Coralis?” Niamh’s lashes lifted in curiosity.
“Yeah. I heard there’s some up–and–coming racer there—supposed to be amazing,
and a woman, too. Oh, and get this–she shares your last name. Quinn.”
Chapter 421
Chapter 421
