Chapter 50
Alex's POV
"Grace," I whispered, my voice hoarse.
Grace picked up the bowl of oatmeal. "Don't say anything. Just eat this while it's hot."
I'd never been fed by another person since childhood. The intimacy of it—Grace's careful attention as she brought the spoon to my lips, the way she waited patiently when I needed to catch my breath between coughing fits—was overwhelming.
"Better?" she asked after I'd managed several spoonfuls.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. The simple act of being cared for had awakened something in me that I'd thought was long buried.
"Grace," I said.
She paused, the spoon halfway to my mouth. "What is it?"
"Being able to see you when I needed you most—it feels incredible."
The admission hung between us, more honest than I'd intended.
"Me too," she said shyly, turning her face away.
She gently laid me back down, tucking the covers around me.
"I'll help you keep an eye on the accident investigation reports, and I'll handle part of the project data too."
"But..."
"You need more rest," she interrupted, leaving no room for argument.
Watching her leave the room, I quickly fell back into sleep.
---
When I woke again, it was evening. Sweat had soaked through my clothes, but I felt much better overall.
The door opened. Grace appeared in the doorway.
"You're awake." She walked in, carrying a glass of warm water. "How do you feel?"
"Much better." I tried to sit up, and this time my body cooperated.
She sat down beside the bed and handed me the glass. "I've finished organizing the accident investigation reports, and I've arranged the coordination with the insurance company."
I took the glass, and my fingers accidentally touched hers. That electric sensation made us both freeze for a moment.
"Grace, I—"
"Your temperature is normal now," she said quickly, the back of her hand lightly touching my forehead. "But you still need more rest."
I caught her hand, not letting her pull it away. "Thank you."
We looked at each other like that, the air filled with some indescribable tension. I wanted to say something, to tell her what this meant, but a knock at the door interrupted.
Lucas appeared in the doorway, looking apologetic but urgent.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but Ms. Wilson, your flight to Starport leaves in two hours."
"I should go," she said finally. "There are things at the company that need handling."
"I know." But I didn't want her to leave. Not yet.
She leaned down, her hand cupping my cheek. "Take care of yourself, Alex. Promise me you won't push so hard."
"I promise." The words came easier than expected.
After she left, I lay back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. The room felt emptier without her presence, but the connection between us had grown stronger.
I glanced at Lucas, who was still hovering in the doorway.
"Drive her to the airport," I said. "Make sure she gets home safely."
"Of course, sir."
"And Lucas?" I caught his eye. "Next time I'm being an idiot about my health, call her immediately."
His smile was knowing. "Yes, sir."
---
Richard's POV
Evening - Harrison Group Executive Office
I'd been staring at the same financial projection for twenty minutes, unable to focus on the numbers.
Where is she?
Grace's absence from the office felt like a missing piece of machinery—everything still functioned, but with a grinding inefficiency that set my teeth on edge.
I rubbed my temples, trying to dispel the headache that had been building since morning. The assistant had brought me coffee twice, but it wasn't the same. Grace had always known exactly how I liked it—two sugars, a splash of cream, somehow making everything taste better.
My phone rang, the sound cutting through my brooding. I glanced at the caller ID and felt my stomach drop.
"Grandmother."
"Richard, darling." Aria's voice was warm but carried an undertone I couldn't quite place. "How are you? It's been too long since we've spoken."
I straightened in my chair. Grandmother rarely called unless something was seriously wrong. She preferred her solitude at the family estate, emerging only for major holidays or family crises.
"I'm well, Grandmother. How are you feeling?"
"Oh, I'm fine, dear. But I've been thinking about you and Grace lately." There was a pause. "How is married life treating you both?"
The question hit like a physical blow. I'd been dreading this conversation for weeks, knowing that eventually someone in the family would notice Grace's absence.
"We're... we're doing well," I lied, the words tasting bitter.
"Are you?" Aria's tone sharpened slightly. "Because the news I'm getting is that she's moved out?"
Damn.
"It's just a temporary arrangement," I said quickly.
The silence on the other end stretched uncomfortably long.
"Richard." Aria's voice had taken on the tone she'd used when I was eight and had broken her favorite vase. "I may be old, but I'm not senile. What's really going on?"
"We've had some... difficulties," I admitted finally.
"What kind of difficulties?"
The concern in her voice made my chest tight.
"I made some mistakes," I said quietly.
"I'm coming to Starport tomorrow. You can tell me about your mistakes in detail then, and I'll help mediate between you two."
My heart sank. "Grandmother, I don't think that's—"
"Seven o'clock. Dinner together, and bring Grace. Richard, I mean it."
The line went dead, leaving me staring at my phone in growing panic.
---
I tried calling Grace first. The phone rang and rang before going to voicemail. Her voice, professional and distant, instructed me to leave a message.
"Grace, it's me. Please call me back. It's important."
I hung up and immediately sent a text: Grandmother wants to see us both tomorrow night. Dinner at the house at 7. Please don't make this harder than it has to be.
Then I waited, watching my phone like it might explode. Minutes ticked by with no response.
Finally, I sent another message: Grandmother has always cared about you. Don't punish her for my mistakes.
My finger hovered over the send button for a long moment before I pressed it.
An hour later, my phone buzzed—Grace had finally replied.
When I hopefully expected to receive her agreement, all I got was a refusal with the excuse of "busy with business matters."