Chapter 294

Chapter 294

The two of them walked along the hospital corridor toward the exit.

Silas walked half a step ahead of Serena. His steps looked steady enough, but Serena noticed that as he walked, his right hand kept lifting up, occasionally pressing against his forehead.

The movements were light and brief, but Serena saw them clearly.

"Your head—are you really okay?"

Silas paused mid-step, lowered his hand from his temple, and turned around.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Serena didn't say anything, just looked at him.

After two seconds of her staring, Silas looked away and lowered his voice a bit. "It just hurts sometimes. It's an old problem."

"What did the doctor say?"

"Might as well have said nothing—just told me to come in for regular checkups." Silas pulled at the corner of his mouth and moved past the topic.

Serena wanted to ask more, but her phone buzzed in her pocket.

She pulled it out and looked.

It was Clayton calling.

She remembered that morning's phone call—he'd hidden the fact that Silas had been in a car accident from her. Hidden it for two whole years.

She understood his position, but right now she didn't want to answer.

Serena declined the call and turned off her phone. The screen went completely black.

Silas saw it.

"You can answer it, it's okay."

Serena shoved the phone back in her pocket, her tone flat. "No need. Nothing urgent."

Silas didn't say anything more.

Back at the hotel, when the elevator reached Silas's floor, the doors opened.

Serena didn't follow him out.

"Go rest up. I'm heading out."

Silas stood in the elevator doorway, one hand holding the door open, not moving.

He looked at Serena and opened his mouth, wanting to say something.

But before the words came out, his brow furrowed sharply, and his right hand unconsciously lifted to press against his forehead.

"Tss—"

He let out a pained sound.

Serena's hand was already reaching for the elevator button when she froze.

"What's wrong?"

Silas released his hand and shook his head. "Nothing, just a bit..."

He didn't finish. His body swayed.

Serena instinctively stepped forward and grabbed his arm.

Silas steadied himself.

He looked down at Serena's hand supporting him and said nothing.

John, watching from the side, understood his boss's meaning immediately and spoke up.

"Ms. Vale, ever since Mr. Sterling's car accident two years ago, these headaches haven't stopped. When they're bad, he can't even stand."

Serena glanced at John.

John's expression was sincere.

"I have some urgent matters at the company that I really can't get away from. Could I trouble you... to keep an eye on him for a bit?"

Serena didn't answer right away.

She looked at Silas.

His complexion really didn't look good, with a thin layer of sweat at his temples.

She hesitated.

John struck while the iron was hot. "Really just for a bit. I'll be back as soon as I'm done."

Without waiting for Serena to agree, he swiped the room card to open the door and made a welcoming gesture.

Serena took a deep breath and finally followed Silas into the room.

John quietly closed the door behind them and quickly left.

Inside the room, the curtains were drawn and the light was dim.

Serena looked around. A suitcase stood against the wall, an open laptop sat on the desk with some documents beside it.

"Go lie down in the bedroom. I'll sit in the living room for a bit. Call me if you need anything." Serena stood in the entryway without going further in.

Silas didn't go to the bedroom.

He walked straight to the living room sofa, leaned back against it, tilted his head up, and closed his eyes.

"Don't need to lie down. Sitting for a bit is fine."

His voice was very hoarse.

Serena stood for a moment, then walked over and sat down on the single sofa across from him.

A coffee table separated them.

About a minute of silence.

Silas kept his eyes closed, his brow furrowed the whole time.

His hand rested on the armrest, fingers clenched tight, the veins on the back of his hand bulging noticeably.

Serena watched for a while and couldn't help asking.

"Does it hurt a lot?"

Silas opened his eyes and met her gaze.

"It's okay."

Serena knew Silas well—when he was in pain, he never liked to say it out loud.

Serena was silent for a few seconds, then spoke before she even realized it.

"Want me to... massage it for you?"

The words were out before she could stop them. She paused herself.

Silas was clearly stunned too.

He looked at Serena, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Can you?"

Serena didn't look at his expression and got up to walk around behind the sofa.

"Lower your head a bit."

Silas leaned forward as told.

Serena's fingers landed on his forehead.

The instant her fingertips touched him, they both stiffened.

Serena's hands were cool, Silas's skin was hot.

She adjusted the pressure and slowly massaged along the pressure points.

Her thumb slid from his forehead to his brow bone, then along his hairline.

Back when Silas had migraines, this was how she used to massage him.

That was a long time ago.

So long ago she thought she'd forgotten which spots to press and how much pressure to use.

But the moment her fingers touched him, the muscle memory came flooding back.

Silas didn't speak.

He slowly closed his eyes, his tense shoulders gradually relaxing.

Serena's fingers continued massaging along his scalp, the pressure just right.

After a few circles, she could feel Silas's breathing become much steadier.

"Does it still hurt?"

Silas didn't respond.

Serena looked down to see his eyes half-closed, lashes trembling slightly—she couldn't tell if he was falling asleep or lost in thought.

Her hands didn't stop.

After a long while, Silas finally spoke, his voice muffled.

"You used to massage me like this before."

Serena's fingers paused.

"You remember?"

"No." Silas's voice was very low. "But when you do it, it feels really familiar. My body remembers."

Serena didn't respond to that.

She continued massaging, moving her fingers from his forehead to the back of his head, rubbing down along both sides of his cervical spine.

The muscles in Silas's neck were very tight—clearly someone who was constantly on edge.

"You probably don't pay attention to rest, do you?"

"Mm, work's busy."

"You still have a blood clot in your brain and you don't care about your life?"

Silas suddenly laughed, very softly.

"Are you angry?"

"I'm just stating facts."

Silas stopped laughing. After a long silence, he suddenly spoke.

"Serena."

"Mm."

"Thank you."

Serena's hands stopped.

She looked down at the back of Silas's head—the clean lines of his neck, the collar of his hospital gown askew, revealing a section of collarbone.

"For what?"

Silas didn't answer.

He reached up and gently grasped Serena's fingers resting on his shoulder.

Fingertips touching.

His palm was hot, almost melting her cool fingertips.

Serena's breathing stopped for a beat.

Until Silas's thumb brushed across her knuckle, very lightly, with a careful, tentative quality.

Serena suddenly pulled her hand back.

"Okay, that's enough for now."

She walked back around to sit across from him and picked up the bottled water from the coffee table, taking a sip.