Chapter 142: Continuation

Words : 1004 Updated : Sep 27th, 2025

Chapter 142: Continuation Heather took a long, tired sip from her coffee. It was lukewarm now, but she didn’t care. She just needed something warm in her mouth, something to hold while she sat still and tried to catch her breath. Across the table, Alex was chewing slowly. Too slowly. But she didn’t scold him. He had one hand on his spoon, and the other one was flying his little spaceship in the air. He made soft sound effects with his lips, lost in his own world. She watched him, half-listening, half-sinking into her own thoughts. She had finally slept well. For the first time in a long while. The kind of sleep where your body sinks into the bed and your chest feels lighter in the morning. It didn’t last long, but it was enough. Enough to remind her she was still alive and still had things she needed to hold together. She was pulled out of that moment when the spaceship suddenly floated in front of her face. Alex was done eating and now trying to show her something, but she had missed the moment because her thoughts were too loud. Her eyes met his, and she smiled faintly, to compensate for not listening to him. "Mrs. Thorne?" A soft voice came from behind her. The housekeeper stood there holding the breakfast tray meant for Caius. Her eyes went to the tray, then back to the woman. "Is he done already?" Heather asked in confusion. "It’s only been ten minutes." The woman shifted on her feet. "He hasn’t touched it." "So... why bring it back?" "He said he won’t eat unless you bring it to him." Heather’s eyes narrowed. "Why does he want me to bring it?" The woman hesitated. Her voice turned lower and more apologetic. "He said if I come back without you, he’ll throw it at me." Heather sighed deeply, pressing her fingers against her forehead. Of course he would say something like that. He hadn’t changed much; not in that department. Seriously? "Who does he think is going to lose?" Heather muttered more to herself than the elderly woman before her. "Sorry?" Heather looked at the woman. She was older, kind, and clearly uncomfortable. "Never mind," she said. Then, standing up, she added flatly, "Come on. Let’s go." . . She knocked twice on the door. It was a habit, even in her own house. Especially now, with the way things were. When she pushed the door open, she saw him sitting in the dark. His wheelchair was by the window and he was staring outside. The curtains were still drawn. The room was gloomy, almost depressing. "You could have opened the curtains," she said, stepping in. Her voice wasn’t annoyed, she was just tired. The housekeeper quickly set the tray down and hurried out, mumbling something about Caius preferring the dark. Heather didn’t stop her, she had done enough already. She turned back at Caius. Now it was just the two of them in the quiet. She didn’t like how the room felt. "You’re really not going to eat?" she asked gently. Caius didn’t turn, but that didn’t stop him from talking. "I was just beginning to trust you," he said. "And then you send a stranger to bring my food." Heather took a few steps closer. "She’s not a stranger. She’s worked for us for a long time. She’s the housekeeper." He didn’t answer. His eyes were still locked on the glass in front of him. "What are you looking at?" she asked. She walked closer, near the window, and looked out. From here, she could see the dining room below; the housekeeper was back there, now feeding Alex some fruit slices. Her own coffee mug was still on the table beside him. It took her a moment to realize what this meant. He had been staring at them. Maybe this was why he wanted her to come upstairs... to separate her from Alex. Or maybe not. Maybe he was just trying to make sense of things. When she turned her head back toward him, he wasn’t looking out the window anymore. He was looking straight at her. His eyes were deep and quiet, and they didn’t move away when she met them. She frowned a little. "Why are you staring at me like that?" He didn’t look away still. "You have mesmerizing eyes." Heather stood still. That wasn’t what she expected. She wasn’t even sure how to respond. But after a few seconds, she raised one eyebrow and gave him a slow half-smile. "I know." She went over to the tray, pulled it closer to him, and opened the lid. Her eyes lifted to meet his again. "Eat," she said simply. "You need to eat." He looked down at the food, then back at her face. His gaze stayed there, like the food had already been forgotten. "What now?" she asked, sensing his hesitation. "You don’t like it?" "It’s not the food," he said. "Then what?" He looked down at his hands. They were wrapped in bandages, stiff and slightly swollen. Heather understood. But she also remembered watching him use those same hands to wheel himself yesterday. They weren’t completely useless. "You don’t actually want me to feed you," she said slowly. "Why do you sound like that’s a bad thing?" he replied. "You didn’t have a problem feeding the boy." "He’s a child," she said. He tilted his head slightly. "What’s the difference between a child and someone who’s injured?" Heather crossed her arms. "The difference is, you’re not helpless. You’re being difficult." Caius turned his head away again. "I’m being difficult because I asked for help?" "No, Caius. You’re being difficult because you’re only asking for help from me, and only when it puts me in a position where you get to test me." He looked back at her. Heather softened just a little. Her voice was less defensive now. "The housekeeper could’ve helped you." "I don’t know who she is." He said flatly.

Chapter 142: Continuation

Comments (0)