Chapter 567 Of Course, I Thought Too Highly of Myself The nonchalance crushed the emotional storm he himself had created in Deirdre. Balling her hands into fists, she willed herself to suppress the urge not to deck her hand across Brendanâs face.
âYour conscience? After all the sins youâve committed? After all the lives youâve ruined?
And all you get is your wimpy conscience burning a hole in your non-existent soul!? Your conscience is worthless!â
There was something unreadable and nebulous in Brendanâs black eyes, but he managed to maintain his caustic tongue. âAll that is in the past, McKinnon, so can you stop yapping about it? What do you want me to do? Scrap my knees begging you for forgiveness? Grow up.â
âGrow⦠up?â Deirdre could almost see black spots dancing in front of her eyes. She could not stop herself from sneering. âI guess youâre right. I need to grow up and stop being so naive. How could I possibly demand the great and mighty Mr. Brighthall to beg for my forgiveness? How could I commit the sin of making his conscience slap him on his wrist!? Oh God, of course! I thought too highly of myself!â
Brendan turned his head sideways. He could not seem to come up with even more acerbic things to one-up her. Maybe, his fever had gotten severe enough that it was impeding his thoughts.
Deirdre managed to pull herself out of her rage to ask, âAnd what about the spaghetti you wanted me to make? Did you dream of it?â
âYes.â Something twinkled in his eyes.
Deirdre let the conversation die. Only after a coughing fit seized Brendan, she was reminded of his medicine. She moved her stiffened body and took it from the table.
Passing it to him, she instructed, âEat it.â
Before Brendan could enjoy his shock, she added, âEat it and rest early. I want you to gain enough strength to proceed with our divorce.â
Any last ounce of hope he had died in his eyes.
He should have known this was what awaited him. His head made his thoughts feel like a boiling pot of glue swirling inside his skull. Something was choking him from his throat, making simple conversation way too difficult.
He swallowed the pills, lay down, and sat up again. âWhere are you sleeping?â
âIâll sit,â Deirdre replied flatly.
âUntil morning?â
She ignored him.
Brendan grabbed an unused bathrobe, put it on, and climbed out of bed.
Hearing his commotion, Deirdre frowned. âWhat are you doing?â
âYou get into the bed. Iâll take the couch.â
He started toward his destination exactly as he said he would.
Deirdre paused for a minute. Then, she recovered from what she believed was another one of Brendanâs elaborate games and sneered. âGet back here on the bed. Iâm not the kind of *sshole whoâd kick a patient out of his bed for herself.â
Brendan closed his eyes, weary. âJust sleep already.â
He lay on the couch. It was a considerably more limited space to be in, but he managed to fall asleep. It was only after hearing his slow, rhythmic breathing that Deirdre realized the man was being sincere. There was no trick, no twist. It was not him putting on a show.
He really wanted to let her have the bed.
Deirdre was stunned. It took her a while to snap out of her shock.
She pulled the blanket away from the bed and covered him with it, leaving only the second, thinner layer on herself. She lay on the bed and watched the night pass. She could not tell when she finally fell asleep-all she knew was that someoneâs phone had woken her up.
By the time she opened her eyes against a migraine, the phone was still ringing in her ear. She began to reach out with her hand, trying to feel for the offending object, until she found a phone that had accidentally slipped into the crack between the wall and the headboard. It belonged to Brendan.
She debated with herself. Should she answer it?
The ringing stopped before she could make a choice. Then, for the fourth time, it started again.
Deirdre had no choice but to retrace her memory of a smartphoneâs interface and slide in the right direction to answer it. When she began to hear noise coming out of the speaker, she placed the phone close to her ear.
She did not even have time to speak when she heard an anxious voice calling out, âBren!â
The voice sent a sudden chill down Deirdreâs spine.