Chapter101 She Hadn't Lied to Him
Clifton looked at her, dark eyes deep as the ocean. "You first."
Miranda clutched the blanket corner, trying to keep her voice steady. "How did you... suddenly come to the hospital? And find me?"
If he hadn't appeared in time, she'd probably be a charred corpse by now.
Clifton didn't answer immediately.
He pulled out his cigarette pack from his pocket, instinctively reaching for one. He glanced at Miranda, then irritably tossed the pack back on the table.
He looked up, his gaze sharp and locked on her face. Instead of answering, he asked:
"Three days ago, why did you get into Harrison's car? And that night when you were having dinner with him, you told me you were at the hospital with your mother."
Miranda froze.
These questions came too suddenly, too specifically.
So specific that... as if he'd been there.
In a flash, she remembered that day outside her company building, that familiar figure under the tree.
Miranda's heartbeat skipped. She looked at him in disbelief. "That day at the company entrance... the person under the tree was you?"
Clifton pressed his lips together, saying nothing, but his cold, tacit expression confirmed everything.
So that was it.
An indescribable emotion surged through Miranda's chest, sour and swelling.
"You misunderstood."
She looked into his eyes, explaining earnestly. "That day Lisa told me Harrison was there, so I went down to see him. He told me my mom had collapsed at home and been taken to the hospital."
"I panicked completely. My hands were shaking so badly holding the car keys, I couldn't drive." Miranda paused, continuing.
"To save time, I took his car."
Miranda went on. "As for that night... my mom woke up wanting food from that private restaurant. The place was packed when I got there. I happened to run into Harrison meeting a client there."
"To get takeout, I shared his table. And..."
She paused, looking directly into Clifton's eyes, enunciating clearly. "I paid for that meal. Harrison and I settled everything long ago. I don't want to owe him any favors."
As she explained, Clifton's tightly pressed lips gradually relaxed.
In those obsidian eyes, the accumulated gloom and hostility were slowly dissipating, replaced by extremely complex emotions.
Chagrin, self-reproach, and a hint of... embarrassment at being mollified.
So he'd been overthinking.
She hadn't lied to him.
She hadn't been rekindling anything with that wild man either.
Everything was his imagination running wild in that moment, conjuring up betrayal.
Miranda saw his expression and understood.
She suddenly found it somewhat amusing, yet helpless.
"So..." She tilted her head, looking at the normally imperious man. "These past few days when you told me to 'get lost' and disappeared, was it because you were jealous? You thought Harrison and I were together?"
Called out, Clifton's face stiffened.
But he didn't deny it.
He looked at Miranda, extremely seriously and slowly, nodding once.
"Yes."
That single "yes," so candid, caught Miranda off guard.
She couldn't help but laugh, though it irritated her throat and made her cough twice.
"Then you really wronged me." Tears of laughter formed in her eyes. "But you saved my life this time. Adding that to what I owed you before, I owe you even more now. So we're even. I won't hold these past few days against you."
She'd meant it as a joke to lighten the mood.
But those words landed in Clifton's ears like needles piercing flesh.
Even?
How could they be even?
If he hadn't deliberately ignored calls, messages, and everything else these past days...
Maybe she wouldn't have been alone and vulnerable at the hospital, wouldn't have been lured into that warehouse, wouldn't have nearly died in that fire.
Earlier outside the warehouse, when he couldn't hear any sound from inside, he felt like his entire world was collapsing.
That fear of loss hurt ten thousand times more than the burns on his back.
"I'm sorry."
The man's low voice suddenly broke the silence.
Miranda's smile froze.
She looked at Clifton, seeing him with head lowered, hands clasped on his knees, veins bulging on the backs of his hands as if forcibly suppressing something.
"Clifton, you..."
"It's my fault." Clifton interrupted her, deep self-reproach in his voice. "I shouldn't have doubted you, shouldn't have ignored your calls. If I had earlier..."
Earlier seen her, maybe he would have noticed something wrong sooner.
Seeing him like this, the sourness in Miranda's chest completely melted into a pool of warmth.
This imperious man was actually apologizing to her.
She reached out, gently covering his tightly clasped hands.
"This isn't your fault." She said softly. "Someone deliberately tried to harm me. Even if you'd been there, they would have found another opportunity. Besides... you did come, didn't you?"
"You made it in time at the last moment and saved me. That's enough."
The cool touch on the back of his hand made Clifton's head snap up.
Seeing the woman's gentle, forgiving eyes, the surging emotions in his chest nearly broke free.
He desperately wanted to hold her, to crush her into his very bones.
But he couldn't.
His back was injured, she'd just inhaled thick smoke. Both were fragile.
Clifton took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the turmoil in his heart, putting his cold mask back on.
"Alright." He turned his hand to grip hers, then tucked it back under the covers. "Since you know you almost died, say less nonsense. The doctor said your throat is damaged and needs rest."
Miranda looked at the man who'd instantly changed faces, somewhat speechless.
How could he switch so quickly?
Just now he was apologizing emotionally, the next second he's scolding her.
"I know..." She muttered quietly, obediently staying still against the headboard.
She couldn't figure out what this man was thinking.
Clifton got up and walked out.
Miranda thought he'd left because he was annoyed. Her heart had just sunk when, minutes later, the door opened again.
A sweet fragrance drifted over.
Clifton had brought a cup of honey lemon tea, good for the throat.
He sat by the bed, scooped up a spoonful, blew on it, and brought it directly to Miranda's lips.
"Open up."
Miranda felt somewhat overwhelmed and also awkward.
"Um... my throat is just hoarse, my hands and arms are fine." She shrank back. "I can do it myself."
Clifton's hand didn't move, the spoon stubbornly staying at her lips.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze dangerously scanning her pale lips, mouth curving into an ambiguous smile.
"If you don't drink it, I don't mind feeding you another way."
Another way?
Miranda saw his gaze fall on her lips. Her face instantly flushed crimson.
Mouth to mouth?
"I'll drink!"
Afraid Clifton would actually do it, she quickly opened her mouth, took the spoon, and swallowed the honey lemon tea.
The sweet tea slid down her throat, smoothing that burning sensation.
Clifton watched her cheeks puffed like a squirrel obediently drinking, finally showing a trace of genuine amusement in his eyes.
"Slow down. No one's competing with you."