Chapter 222 I Thought We Were Closer Now âHere, eat some eggs. You need protein.â
Deirdre stopped moving her spoon slightly.
Brendan caught the change instantly. âWhat is it?â
âNothing.â She cast her eyes down on her food, looking a little hesitant, before drawing the egg close to her lips.
Sam snatched the spoon away from her, alarmed. âMiss McKinnon, no! Donât you remember what the doctor said? No eggs two hours after taking your meds!â
âWhat theâ¦?â Brendanâs eyebrows were furrowed dangerously. Incredulity swirled behind his eyes as he scanned her face. âWhy didnât you say anything?!â
Deirdre shrugged. âIt was just not important.â
âN-Not important?! You mean severe nausea is fine? Gastric pain is fine? Cold sweat and pain are fine?!â Even Sam was growing exasperated. âOr did you forget what happened the last time you ate a teensy bit of egg? Is that why you were gonna stuff yourself that much just now?!â
His snippy retort made Deirdre choke on her reply. Brendanâs face, erstwhile pale in shock, turned redder and redder. He was not irritated just because of how furious Sam was while questioning the mistress he served but also because Deirdre chose to say nothing. He pinned her wrist on the table with one hand and tightened his grip suddenly.
âYou knew!â he snarled, gritting his teeth. âSo why didnât you say so?!â
This stubborn mule would have eaten them if Sam had not stopped her!
âI told youâ¦. Itâs n-nothingâ¦â Pain caused her face to turn a little pale. She wanted to pull her hand away. but it only made him increase the pressure. She could feel his rage boiling over from his palm.
âNothing? Then what counts as âsomethingâ to you?â Brendan argued. âOh, of course! Nothing matters!
You even jumped off a building because, hell, not even your life matters to you!â
Deirdreâs lips parted, but she realized she could not defend herself.
Brendan found her quiet admission even more infuriating. âDonât you dare insinuate that I donât know whatâs going through your head! You thought that if you refused to eat them, Iâd use it as an excuse to forbid you to see Ophelia, didnât you? Because thatâs who I am to you, isnât it? A sh*tty, unreasonable tyrant who would sh*t on his own promise just because he was feeling a little hissy in the moment!â
Deirdre said nothing. It was all true.
Brendanâs expression darkened, but he began to control his flaring temper. âI really thought we were getting closer.â
Her heart skidded. She looked up at his face, her eyes bewildered.
âI am not the tyrant you think I am. I am not unreasonable,â he added, his voice strained from the effort to fight his rage. âYou donât have to please me at your own expense-that wasnât what I asked for. I asked for us to go back to how we were back then! You donât have to force yourself to do anything beyond that, Deirdre! What matters the most right now is that you recover. That you continue to live.â1 Deirdre could not see his expression, but she could imagine how hard he found it to push against his own rage based on his tone alone.
He was trying not to scare her into retreating into her shell.
Her mind went blank.
âBut⦠why?â
Her conscious control seemed to return only after the question left her lips. Shocked, she shut her lips.
Brendan was a little taken aback by her question. âWhy? Why should there be a reason to want to see you get better? Or to see you live?â
She would believe literally anyone else if they said this. But Brendan always had an angle.
Deirdre fell into a daze.
âLook, if you absolutely need an answer of some kind, then itâs as I told you before: Iâm trying to atone.â
He discarded her food into the bin and ordered Sam, âBring her a new plate.â
Deirdre ate in small bites, but she finished her portion completely. Even Dr. Ginger was surprised by her compliance so much that he remarked, âHuh. Miss McKinnon has never had a big appetite. She normally says sheâs full after eating only half a piece of toast, but it looks like thatâs changing today!
Well done, Mr. Brighthal!!â