Chapter 197 Help Me Keep Up The Act âDr. Gingerâs suggestion,â Deirdre replied flatly. She let the coat hang on her shoulders. âHe said a shut âin lifestyle wouldnât help my recovery either, so he told me to go outside and immerse myself in the elements for a bit.â
1 donât think your sorry excuse of an outdoor getup was part of the suggestion, was it? How will you see Ophelia if you catch a cold?â
There was a plop as her gardening shears fell to the ground. Deirdre looked at Brendan in disbelief, her tool forgotten, her lifeless eyes quivering in their sockets. âWhat did you say?â
Her voice was trembling.
1 saidâ¦â Brendan repeated himself with emphatic enunciation.
âOphelia is ready to return. Sheâll be with us in ten days.
This meant more than the world to her. Her eyes reddened instantly, and she clawed at Brendanâs colla r- despite already suppressing most of her violent excitementâand blabbered, âDâ
Donât you dare do this to me. Brendan! Donât! Donât gâgive me hopeâ¦â
Brendan fixed a strangely unyielding stare on her. âI have no reason to lie.â
She felt euphoria. Pure, unadulterated, and blindingâ
like a supernova lighting Deirdre up from within. She was so alive. So enraptured.
Suddenly, Brendan found himself wishing that his lie would last forever.
âShe wasnât ready to step outside because she was undergoing treatment in the institution, but now, he r condition is stable enough. She no longer regresses to being a child.â
âReally?â Deirdre was grinning in relief. She rubbed her cheeks, and a shadow of anxiety took over her
face. âNo, wait! But what about my face? Sheâs gonna go into shock if she sees me!â
âIâve told her about it already. She thought it was a burning accident, and ultimately, she didnât care.â
âThank God! Oh, thank Godâ¦â Deirdre muttered to herself under her breath. Her voice gradually turne d into a soft murmur. âI canât let her worry again. I shouldnât make her worry at all! I need to show her that Iâm living the best life I could ever have. She needs to think Iâm hap py⦠because itâs the only way to make her happy.â
Brendan silently watched her murmur to herself. His eyes were grim, as the illusions Deirdre told herself to create and maintain weighed down on his chest. For some reason, he felt agony just hearing about them.
âYou fret too much. She doesnât know whatâs happened to you at all,â he replied.
âAs far as she knows, youâre still Mrs. Brighthall. Whatâs there to be worried about?â
âYouâre right.â Deirdre breathed, lowering her head as her fingers unthinkingly caressed her damaged cheeks. She raised her
head, as though she had resurfaced from an unfathomable thought, and smiled faintly. The fact that sh e knows about none of the things that have happened is a godsend. Sheâs sick, Brendan. I canât let her
undergo the pain of knowing what went down while she was being treated. She will be so⦠devastated â¦â
âAre you done licking your wounds?â Brendan suddenly snapped, frowning. âWho cares if your face is a little scarred? I donât give a damn! And neither does sheâ
because thatâs just what mothers are like!â
Deirdre looked up at his face, but he could not read those lifeless eyes or see her thoughts in them.
Then, just as abruptly, she hung her head.
âCan you⦠do me a favor?â she asked softly, changing the subject.
Brendan saw her smile withering away andâunexpectedlyâ
reached out to graze her lips. Confused, Deirdre raised her head as he finally registered his own action.
Still, he did not take his hand away. Instead, he remarked coldly, âCan you not act all woeâisâ
me when youâre asking for help? It really ruins the mood. At least try to smile more often! Ophelia is com The manâs tone might be icy, but his fingers were warm. Deidre forced the corners of her lips to curve up âI was hoping⦠you could help me keep up the act while sheâs with us. Is that⦠feasible?â she asked as