Chapter 21
“Why didn’t you call me?” Byron cased her back onto the bed, histone Indifferent. If you’re not feeling well, just stay put.”
Byron tidied up the shattered glass and set a fresh glass of water on the nightstand. “Anything else you need?”
Maeve hesitated before speaking. “I could use something to eatJust a simple plate of spaghetti would be fine. There should be ingredients in the fridge. But, do you actually know how to cook?”
She eyed him with a blend of curiosity and skepticising he didn’exactly seem like the type who would know his way around a kitchen.
Byron’s face stayed impassive. “Spaghetti, got it. I’ll be right back
Just as he was about to leave, Maeve called after him, “Wait! I haven’t had a chance to wash up in two days. Could you help me to the bathroom?”
Byron turned back, his gaze cool and indifferent. “You can’t even stand. Are you seriously asking me to watch you bathe?” Maeve’s face instantly flushed crimson. “N–No! That’s not what meant!” She waved her hands frantically, her voice a mix of embarrassment and urgency. “I just need to rinse my mouth and wash my face–nothing more!”
en get that idea? I wouldn’t ask for something like that, even if I had skin as thick as a rhino’s! she thought,
How did he even mortified.
Byron glanced at her flushed cheeks, then grabbed her with one hand and pulled her out of bed. “Just lean on me, but don’t get too close,” he said flatly, his disdain evident.
Maeve fumed silently. “It’s only been two days without a shower does he really need to act this disgusted?
Clearly annoyed, she quickly rinsed her mouth. Struggling to keep her balance, she leaned against the sink, using one hand to splash water on her face.
As water splashed onto her shirt collar, revealing a sliver of skin, Byron’s gaze flickered to the mirror before he quickly averted it. Keeping his tone casual, he asked, “So, what’s the story behind your parents locking you up?”
“We had a bit of a falling out, Maeve replied vaguely, drying her face with a towel,
Byron had a good idea of what was going on but didn’t push it. Instead, he asked, “So, why didn’t you hit me up again after I missed your call the other day?”
Maeve hesitated, a droplet of water trailing down a stray strand of hair at her cheek. The memory of the woman’s voice on the phone echoed in her mind.
She glanced at Byron’s reflection in the mirror, her words catching in her throat. Admitting she’d been hoping for his call felt too awkward, and the thought of bothering him made her uneasy. After all, they weren’t exactly on buddy–buddy terms. “I forgot,” Maeve said with a small, casual smile. “I didn’t expect my parents to keep me locked up for so long.”
Her earlier resistance toward them had now turned into a deep sense of disheartenment. Despite her efforts to stay upbeat, Trace of loneliness flickered across her face.
Her smile, tinged with a hint of sadness, made Byron feel oddly unsettled. He frowned, swallowed hard, and asked, “Are you done?”
“Yes,” Maeve replied. “Could you help me back to bed now?”
