Her Disabled Heir

Chapter 8: A Night With Chase

It seemed like Chase and I held each other for an eternity. However, our little moment ended abruptly.

The sound of the door opening jolted us from whatever alternate reality we had accidentally slipped into and immediately Chase and I separated. My heartbeats ran fast, and I took a few good steps away from Chase just before the door opened to reveal Chase’s father.

I swallowed.

Another confrontation with the old man was not what I needed at the moment. The day had been long enough, and I suddenly felt the fatigue weighing down on my body.

“Good evening, father,” Chase greeted his father, breaking the awkward silence between the three of us.

Chase’s father sucked his teeth. “Don’t try to act like everything is all rosy and sweet, Chase,” he scolded him, before turning his attention to me and then back to Chase. His lips formed into a scowl in an instant. “Something happened and don’t try to deny it. What did this woman do to you now?”

“The doctor said that I’ll be discharged first thing tomorrow morning. Please see to it that proper arrangements are made. I can’t run grandfather’s company from a hospital bed, now, can I?” Chase told his father blankly, like he didn’t hear a single word that came out of his mouth earlier.

Through gritted teeth, Chase’s father managed a smile. “Sure. Please get some rest before then, at least. You look like you need it.”

From the way Chase’s father looked at Chase with a hint of annoyance mixed with desperation, I could tell that he expected a reply.

Much to his demise, Chase offered none.

With a resigned sigh, he greeted his son good night before looking at me one last time.

Although he didn’t utter a word to me, I got the message loud and clear. From the way his eyes narrowed at me, slowly regarding me like I was less than the filth underneath his shoe, I could make out an idea of what he had running in his head.

With that last judgmental glance, Chase’s father left.

Once again, an awkward silence descended upon the room. The broken and vulnerable Chase I had seen just a few moments earlier was now gone. Instead, the cold and brooding Mr. Williams I had met first took his place.

Chase stared into the distance, his breaths steady and his lips pulled into a deep line. The tension in the room was thick, and I was scared that we had taken ten steps backwards. For the next few moments, both of us surrendered to our thoughts.

I thought about everything that Chase had just told me. At first glance, I would never have imagined that he would have suffered so much heartache and still managed to remain the man he was. My heart broke for him and yearned to comfort him at the same time.

Examining Chase, I wondered what he thought of. Perhaps he was thinking about the conversation we had just had as well, or perhaps his thoughts wandered off to his business dealings or the fact that he had abruptly added me into his life.

“Your gawking is uncomfortable,” Chase commented, putting an end to the silent torture between us.

Pink rushed to my cheeks. “Your father was right. You should get some rest,” I said, turning around and hoping to make a quick exit, but Chase had other plans.

“Stay.” His voice shook everything within me and I froze. In one spot, I turned around slowly. Something had shifted in me in the past few hours. I was the same woman who walked into a mansion, screaming at the top of her lungs, even though she knew just how risky it was, wasn’t I?

If I was the same woman, then how had I suddenly become so meek? Why did Chase’s words and actions affect me so much? His power and authority hadn’t mattered much before, so what changed?

Perhaps trauma had a way of killing someone’s spirit. Perhaps my fire had been extinguished in some way.

Chase’s next words shocked me as much as my recent change in demeanor. “Please, stay,” he urged with a soft voice this time.

It seemed that we were both on some sort of trauma-induced drug that night because I nodded and sauntered over to a spot right beside his bed.

His eyes searched mine like they were trying to read me again, and I fought off the urge to look away. “We’re married now, Eleanor. You don’t have to panic just because you’re scared that someone might see us hugging each other. You should get used to people seeing us get close to each other.”

Once again that evening, I felt hot embarrassment run through me. My toes curled up and I grimaced. “I’m still trying to get used to this whole marriage thing,” I said in a small voice I didn’t recognize.

“Me too,” he whispered.

Chase adjusted himself on the bed and shifted until there was enough space for another human being to join him in it. He tapped the space beside him, offering a kind smile. “I think I’ll rest better with you beside me. Join me please.”

The hairs on my neck stood. I had never been this close to a man before. Even though I was well aware that this man before me was my husband, I still felt reluctant. But then it dawned on me that if things were different, he and I would have had an actual wedding night. Luckily, I was spared this once, but who knew how many more lucky nights I would have?

My eyes turned to the chair I sat on earlier, and I decided that sleeping in a bed with Chase would be a lot better than settling for the small chair. Releasing a breath of fresh air, I cleared my thoughts and joined my new husband in bed.

Though the bed was small, Chase and I kept a distance between us. It was enough to remind each person of the true terms of this marriage, but not far enough for me to feel like I had broken a barrier of mine and let Chase in. I had just met this man, yet I had been more intimate with him on both an emotional and physical level than I had been with any other man.

Facing each other, we let ourselves study the other person. In the dimly lit room, Chase’s eyes burned with an emotion I failed to place a name on. With chiseled features and an enigmatic gaze, I found it hard to avert my gaze. His square jawline, sculpted as if by the hands of a master artisan, spoke of strength and resilience. Each angle of his face seemed meticulously crafted, from the sharp lines of his cheekbones to the subtle curve of his lips, which held a hint of a knowing smile.

His hair, a tousled mass of dark waves, fell effortlessly across his forehead, adding to his rugged charm. It spoke of wild nights spent under the stars, of journeys taken on roads less traveled. Yet, even in its disarray, there was a sense of refinement, as if each strand had been carefully placed to achieve the perfect balance of chaos and control.

Chase was an attractive man and right then and there, I began to ask myself why he chose to marry me. Not only was he attractive, he was a billionaire! Despite his disability, I was sure that he had a handful of women begging to be noticed by him, so I asked myself for the umpteenth time that day. Why me?

“Thank you,” Chase whispered, jolting me out of my thoughts.

My heartbeats rang louder in my ears. “For what?”

“For tonight. For being here. For saving me.”