Chapter 182 Matters of Feeling

Chapter 182 Matters of Feeling

Gwyneth eyed the mini mountain of food in her bowl, a twitch starting in her left eyebrow. She didn't want to make a scene, so she picked up her spoon and tried the soup instead. To her surprise, it was exactly to her taste.

When she didn't complain—when she actually kept eating—Kieran's shoulders eased. A faint smile tugged at his mouth.

Violette and Autumn noticed. They said nothing until after Kieran had gone. Then Autumn sank into the couch with a sigh.

"They look good together," she murmured. "So how did it get this bad? Ivan told me Kieran's been taking the most dangerous missions these past six months. Nearly got himself killed more than once. I think… he's trying to make himself stronger, so Gwyneth can lean on him."

Violette's laugh was sharp. "And what good is that? There's still that woman in his family's house. Our Gwyneth will never marry a man with that kind of baggage."

From the top of the stairs, Gwyneth sat down on the step, listening. Her chest felt tight, her thoughts a tangled mess. She didn't know what to feel—anger or pity. She wanted to forgive him, but not so easily.

When she couldn't untangle it, she called Olivia.

"Olivia, what should I do?" Her voice was low, uncertain.

Olivia was silent for a moment. "Gwyneth, you know I don't like that bastard either. But I can't deny he's given a lot to this relationship. It's obvious he's serious about you. Still… marriage is about two families. And Kieran's family is… complicated."

"Complicated?" Gwyneth gave a humorless laugh. "Try a complete disaster." Just thinking about it made her tired. She decided to drop it. "Forget it. I'll just focus on recovering. Men are trouble. Never again."

Olivia smirked. She hung up just as Kieran appeared outside the office building.

"Olivia, Henry's gone. I'd like to discuss the new training plan with you."

She nodded and walked with him to her office.

"The training intensity should ramp up this week," he said, handing her the file. "I'd like you to review it for any issues."

She read through the plan, found no major problems, but still double-checked a few details before nodding. "Approved. But I have one suggestion—when you increase the intensity, watch the team's physical condition. After this round, I'll schedule full medicals for everyone to make sure they're fit for the next phase."

Kieran agreed and left with the file, but she called after him. "Get that arm looked at in the infirmary. You just got back from a mission. Take two days off before coming back."

He gave a small smile. "Thanks for the concern. I'll go now."

In the infirmary, Francis Vasquez examined the angry wound on Kieran's arm and shook his head. "How many times is this now? You're going to get yourself killed."

Kieran gave a wry smile and said nothing.

Francis kept going. "Everyone knows why you're doing this—picking the most dangerous jobs for Gwyneth's sake. I've heard she's earned enough commendations to be transferred out of Special Operations Unit. But Kieran… nothing's worth more than your life."

Kieran's lips curved faintly. "She is my life. If it makes her happy, I'll do it."

Francis sighed, cleaned the wound thoroughly, started an IV, and gave him antibiotics. Then, as protocol demanded, he informed Olivia. By the time she reached the infirmary, Kieran was asleep, fever burning under his skin.

"Ms. Smith, the infection's bad," Francis said. "He needs to be in a hospital immediately."

Olivia didn't hesitate. She ordered Francis to call an ambulance. At the hospital, the attending physician's voice was ice-cold.

"You're his superior? He came back from a mission with this wound and no proper disinfection? It's already badly infected. Any later and he might have lost the arm. Do you people have any idea what responsibility means?"

Olivia looked down at Kieran, pale and sweating on the bed. For the first time, she felt something shift inside her. Maybe she had underestimated what lay between him and Gwyneth.

When he was out of danger, Olivia sent Gwyneth a message. It was ten at night. In her mind, she set the terms.

"Gwyneth, you have one hour. If you come to the hospital, I won't stand in your way. If you don't, I'll end this for you."

It took half an hour to drive from Gwyneth's place. If she made it in time, it meant she still cared. If not…

Olivia was already considering whether to transfer her friend out of Silverlight City, somewhere far enough to sever every tie.

But then she heard the sound of hurried footsteps. She looked up to see Gwyneth, hair disheveled, in pajamas and slippers, breathless and flushed from the run.

Olivia pressed a hand to her forehead. This hopeless girl hadn't even changed her clothes.

Gwyneth stopped in front of her, panting. "How's Kieran? Is he dead?"

Olivia gave her a flat look. "If he were, did you come to pay your respects?"

Gwyneth ignored the jab and went straight into the room. Kieran was still burning with fever. She glanced at the wound and frowned. "Is he insane? With a wound like this, instead of staying in the hospital, he's buying groceries and playing house at my place? Dying to be a pathetic romantic?"

When she came back out, she was still muttering under her breath. Olivia chuckled. "Face it—you're not getting away. Since you're here, stay with him."

Olivia stood, ready to leave.

"Wait, you're just leaving me here? I'm still recovering! What happened to our friendship?" Gwyneth called after her.

Without turning, Olivia waved a hand. "He's your man. You handle him."

Back at the apartment, Olivia told Violette and Autumn about Kieran's condition. Autumn sighed and headed for the kitchen to make soup. Violette sat in silence for a long time.

"Tell him I want to talk," she said finally. "I want to see where he stands."

Olivia relayed the message when Kieran woke. He took it seriously—so seriously that when the meeting came, he was visibly shaking. Even Gwyneth couldn't watch without comment.

"Really, Kieran? You can face bullets without flinching, but meeting my mother turns you into this?"

He didn't deny it. A lawyer for a mother-in-law was no joke.

"Gwyneth, out. This is between him and me," Violette said.

Gwyneth didn't argue. She slipped out quickly—truth be told, her mother's presence intimidated her too.

Violette wasted no time. "I hear you've cut ties with your family. Yet the woman your father chose for you still lives in your family's house. I want to know—what's your position on that?"