Chapter 298
Adam couldn’t focus on the Sny acquisition papers. Ilis eyes skimmed the same paragraph for the fifth time without absorbing a word. With a huff, he tossed the folder aside.
His mind kept replaying Irene coming home, that restaurant napkin eeking from her purse. The thought of her sharing quiet conversation with Matthew by candlelight twisted something inside im.
“Wonder what he said to her,” he muttered, knuckles white against his armrests.
The small architectural model on his desk caught his eye, his mind painting Matthew standing tall beside Irene. The contrast stung.
Something about her threw him completely off balance. The businessman who prided himself on iron control now found himself drowning in unfamiliar waters–he wanted her for himself, before anyone else could stake a claim.
This possessiveness taught him off guard. The mere thought of Irene growing close to another man made his jaw clench.
When she arrived that eyening, she caught his mood instantly, her eyes landing on the tension in his face.
“Who rained on your parade?” she asked, head tilting slightly.
Adam looked up slowly. “You check on everyone who looks upset?”
He winced at his own bite–sharper than intended. The air suddenly felt too thick.
“Only my patients,” Irene shot back, plopping into the chair beside him. “And occasionally friends who look like they’re plotting
murder.”
She leaned forward. “So what’s with the storm cloud?”
Adam watched her for a beat before jumping straight in. “How’s Matthew these days?”
Irene went still. “Why are you asking about him?” The warmth in her voice evaporated.
Her thumb traced small circles on her knee as she looked away, dinner conversation with Matthew flashing through her mind.
Meeting Adam’s gaze again, her mental chaos settled into mild irritation.
“He’s fine, I guess,” she shrugged. “We’re friends. I’ve known him since forever.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just like you’d check on a mentor you respect. Nothing complicated.”
Adam said nothing at first. As their eyes locked, something in his gaze softened before hardening again.
“Just friends, huh?” The question hung between them as his fingers tapped a restless rhythm.
A shadow crossed his face–Matthew could run to her side whenever needed. If she felt anything for Matthew, what chance did he
have?
Why would he be anything else?” Irene’s brow furrowed, genuine confusion crossing her face.
Adam couldn’t hold back. “Come on. The guy practically drools when you’re in the room.”
Irene’s eyes widened. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “That obvious?”
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“To everyone but you, apparently.” A wry smile touched his lips.
Irene blinked, her expression streaming skepticism.
After a moment, she sighed, shifting closer. “Fine. Matthew told me how he feels today.”
She rolled her eyes slightly. “Trust me, I never saw it coming. And before you ask–I turned him down.”
She picked at a thread on her sleeve. “I’ve never thought of him that way. Not once.”
A beat passed. “Look, back when I was alone with three babies in a foreign country, Matthew helped me through some rough patches. But only as a friend.”
Adam listened, something easing in his chest with each word. The knot of tension that had been twisting his insides slowly unraveled.
“So,” she concluded, ust friends. Period.*
She absentmindedly moved closer, voice dropping. “I’ve got enough on my plate with the kids and work.” She glanced up through her lashes. “And making sure you walk again.”
Her voice softened on those last words.
“Clear enough?” she asked.
Adam wasn’t stupid. He caught her meaning perfectly.
“Crystal,” he said simply.
His mood visibly lifted, though the urge to claim her remained just as strong. That slight change in her voice when mentioning his recovery sparked something hopeful inside him.
Irene remained clueless about the wheels turning in his head.
She stood, smoothing her shirt. “Let’s get you hooked up.”
As she reached for the equipment, her fingers grazed his arm. They both froze at the contact, electricity jumping between them.
“Sorry,” she whispered, not sounding sorry at all.
Adam watched her hands work–confident, steady–as she placed the electrodes with practiced precision. Her touch was clinical, professional, yet each brush of her fingertips against his skin sent ripples through him that had nothing to do with the treatment.
“You know,” she said, breaking the silence as she adjusted a setting, the kids haven’t stopped talking about that island trip.”
“Best vacation they’ve ever had,” Adam replied, noting how her face softened at the mention of her children.
“Only vacation they’ve ever had,” she corrected with a small laugh. Lucas keeps begging to go back. Says he’s got unfinished business with some hermit crabs.”
We should, Adam said simply. “Go back.”
Irene’s hands stilled momentarily. “You might be walking by then.”
That’s the plan.”
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She glanced up, catching his gaze. Something unspoken passed between them—a current stronger than anything the machine could generate.
Ready?” she asked.
Adam nodded, not trusting his voice. She flipped the switch, and the treatment began.
The machine emitted rhythmic, low–frequency sounds as Adam closed his eyes, feeling the subtle electrical stimulation. Irene focused intently on adjusting parameters, occasionally jotting notes on her tablet. The room filled with only the steady hum of equipment and their intermingled breathing..
Every now and then, their eyes would meet accidentally, then quickly dart away. Each time, Adam felt that same jolt–like touching
a live wire.
Irene’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, then silenced it without responding. Adam caught Matthew’s name on the screen before it went dark.
“Important?” he asked casually.
“Nothing that can’t wait,” she replied, turning her attention back to the monitors.
Adam studied her profile in the dim light–the slight furrow of concentration between her brows, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she leaned forward. Little details he’d memorized without realizing it.
The way she’d so easily dismissed Matthew’s message told him more than her words ever could.
“How’s it feeling?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts.
“Better,” he said truthfully. Both the treatment and knowing where he stood with her.
When their fingers accidentally brushed again while adjusting an electrode, neither pulled away immediately. The contact lingeredy deliberate now, a silent acknowledgment of whatever was growing between them.
In this treatment silence, Adam’s mind raced with possibilities.
With Matthew out of the picture, I need my next move, he thought.
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