Chapter 172
The tension in the air crystallied as Irene’s front door swung open expectedly. What should have been a simple goodbye with Matthew turned into something altogether different when Adam and Thomas appeared in the doorway, clearly on their way out after spending the evening with her kids.
“And who might this be?” Matthew’s voice cut through the awkward silence, carrying that distinctive warmth doctors perfect over years of calming nervous patients.
Irene’s tongue seemed to tangle for a split second. “This is Adam Haven, my… neighbor.” She pivoted slightly. “Matthew Hayes, my colleague from R Country.”
Matthew extended his hand, smile never wavering. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Adam sized up the outstretched hand without enthusiasm. After a treat, he returned the gesture, his grip neither weak nor crushing -just enough to make a point.
Thomas hung back, eyebrows inching upward as he watched the silent current pass between them. Like two wolves circling the same territory.
“I’ll just drop my things inside and be over in a bit,” Irene told Adam completely missing the testosterone cloud hanging in the air.
Adam nodded once, making no move to leave.
Irene turned back to Matthew. “I should head in. See you at the hospital.”
Matthew’s lips parted, then pressed together again. He forced a smile. “Of course.”
The question burning on his tongue–why she was meeting this wheelchair–bound man so late–died unasked. Whatever this was, it wasn’t his business. Not yet, anyway.
Adam watched Matthew walk away before motioning to Thomas. The irritation gnawing at his gut followed him all the way back home, an itch he couldn’t scratch.
“Didn’t we tell Uncle Adam that Hayes uncle likes Mom?” Lucas flopped dramatically onto the couch, the perfect picture of dejection. “Where was the death stare? The chest–pounding? The marking territory?”
The triplets had watched everything through the living room windows, their espionage skills improving with practice,
“Adam uncle’s so good to Mom,” Lily sighed, twirling her hair. “How can he not feel anything?”
Alex paced like a tiny general reviewing his troops. His shoulders hunched with the weight of their failed matchmaking.
“Mom could be alone forever,” Lucas moaned, flinging an arm over his eyes. “And we’ll never be a real family.”
Alex stopped suddenly. “You know what? This isn’t so bad.”
“Huh?” His siblings linked in unison.
“A worthy rival can be the best wingman.” His eyes gleamed with renewed strategy. “Hayes uncle might be exactly
Lucas sat up, intrigued. Lily’s forehead creased.
t we need.”
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“But… isn’t that using Hayes uncle?” She hugged a pillow to her che “He was super nice to us in R Country. Getting him to help Mom fall for Adam uncle instead–that’s kinda mean, right?”
The moral dilemma hung heavy in the air. None of them wanted to rt someone who’d been kind to them.
“So what now?” Lucas asked, deflating again.
Alex’s shoulders dropped. “Let it play out, I guess.”
If the two men ended up competing, fantastic. If Matthew somehow won frene over, well, they’d deal. All they truly wanted was for their mom to be happy.
Alex hadn’t completely surrendered, though. Their plotting might skiet ethical lines, but as long as they didn’t directly hurt anyone, the mission continued.
In the evening, Irene set up her equipment in Adam’s treatment room. Something felt off–the usual comfortable silence had morphed into something heavier, charged with unspoken words.
She adjusted an electrode on Adam’s leg. Her fingertips brushed against his skin, and she didn’t miss how he tensed slightly at the contact. Weird. They’d done this dozens of times without issue.
Adam barely spoke, his gaze fixed somewhere over her shoulder rather than watching her work with his usual scrutiny.
“Neural responses up twelve percent from last week,” she said, tapping the monitor. “That’s significant progress.”
A grunt was all she got. Not even a nod.
Rain tapped against the windows, filling the room with its gentle rhythm. Irene finished placing the final sensor, then straightened
- up.
“Okay, what gives?” She crossed her arms. “You’ve been weird since I walked in.”
His eyes finally met hers, a storm brewing behind them–confusion, irritation, and something else that made her pulse jump
slightly.
“Just company stuff,” he said flatly.
“Bull.” The word slipped out before she could filter it. “Try again.”
Adam’s fingers did that telltale tap–tap against his armrest. He started to say something, stopped, then:
“How long have you known Hayes?” The question came out too casual to be casual.
So that’s it. Understanding clicked like a key in a lock. She bit back a smile, keeping her face professionally neutral.
“About five years.” She adjusted a setting on the machine. “He knew me as Joy back in R Country. One of the few people who knew the real me.” She paused. “He was good to the kids.”
Adam absorbed this, jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. Doctor colleague. Knows her secrets. Good with her kids. History.
I’ll be swamped these next few days,” she continued, unplugging one of the devices. “Surgery prep’s intense.” catching his eye. “But I expect you to behave while I’m busy. No fever stunts or mystery symptoms. And if son call me don’t tough it out like last time.”
glanced up,
ng does feel off,
The genuine concern in her voice slipped past Adam’s defenses. Not because he’d forgotten about Matthew, but because her worry was so clearly, specifically for him. The attention she gave him, right now, told him everything he needed to know: whatever past
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she shared with Matthew, right now her complete focus was here, with him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, the ice in his voice thawing slightly.
Irene smiled faintly, feeling the tension in the room ease like a knot slowly unraveling. She continued with the treatment, the silence between them no longer uncomfortable but natural as usual,
*
As the rain intensified outside, she found herself wondering about this strange new dynamic. Why had Matthew’s appearance affected Adam so strongly? And more puzzling still–why did Adams reaction matter so much to her?
The questions lingered, unanswered but insistent, like the steady rhythm of raindrops against the windows.
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