Mira Regret's Her Heartless Billionaire Ex のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

MIRALisa found out about the blanket.I did not know this immediately. I found out the way I found out most things regarding Lisa, through the housekeeper, who had the careful, sympathetic expression of someone delivering information they consider relevant but would prefer not to be the one delivering.The housekeeper told me, two days after Mr Davis was discharged and settled back in his room, that Miss Davis had asked to speak with her about the night of the hospital visit.That she had asked, specifically, who had put the jacket on Dr Landon while she was sleeping in the corridor.That the housekeeper, who had not been at the hospital and therefore knew nothing about any jacket, had communicated this helplessly to a nurse who had been present and who had mentioned it in the specific tone of someone who thought it was a rather sweet detail.Lisa had not found it sweet."I see," I said, when the housekeeper had finished."I thought you should know," she said. "She's been... quieter

MIRAThe hospital charity gala had been scheduled for months, and I had agreed to attend in my professional capacity; the hospital foundation, the cardiac care unit, the public-facing work that connected my medical life to the larger institutional one. I had put it in my calendar in the same careful way I put everything in my calendar, with the colour code I used for professional obligations and the reminder set for forty-eight hours in advance.What I had not anticipated was that Damien would be there.What I had not anticipated, more specifically, was that he would be there as a headlining donor, introduced from the stage with the kind of language reserved for people who have given the sort of money that names wings of buildings after them, and that I would be standing in the crowd when his name was announced and would be required to produce an expression appropriate to the occasion.I produced one. I was rather proud of myself.He hadn't told me he'd be here. Or perhaps he had ass

DAMIENAfter the gala he cornered Mira outside.That was not how he had planned it. He had not planned it at all, which was the problem. He was a man who planned things. He had built an entire life on the foundation of knowing in advance what he intended to do and why and what the likely outcomes were and which of those outcomes he was prepared to accept. Improvisation was not a mode he operated in with any comfort.And yet here he was, standing outside the gala venue in the cooling night air, having excused himself from a conversation about the endowment committee with a brevity that was barely polite, because he had watched Mira move toward the exit and had followed before the decision was fully conscious.She heard him behind her and turned. She didn't look surprised. That was something he had noticed about her over the past weeks: she had stopped being surprised by him. In the early period of this arrangement, she had flinched at his approaches, held herself with the particular re

MIRAI had not expected Mr Davis to become someone I looked forward to seeing.When I had first arrived at the mansion, he had been, at best, a difficult patient and, at worst, a reminder of everything the arrangement cost me. He was gruff, exacting, and almost entirely indifferent to social niceties. He offered no small talk. He did not thank me unless it was in the begrudging, sideways manner of someone who had been raised to consider gratitude a form of vulnerability. He read his newspaper with the focused intensity of a man who regarded the world's events as a series of personal affronts he was nonetheless obligated to stay informed about.I had come to find all of this, over the weeks, oddly comforting.He was in better spirits on Tuesday. Better colour, better appetite, the particular vitality of a man whose body had been through something significant and had decided to take the experience seriously. He had been sleeping more, which his heart required, and arguing about it less

DAMIENNathan provoked him over whisky that evening, which was characteristic. Nathan had always understood that the most efficient way to reach Damien was through a combination of patience, comfort, and a question dropped at the precise moment that the defences were lowest.They were in the study. The city was dark outside the windows. Nathan had his feet on the low table in the manner of a man who had decided, years ago, that Damien's furniture was as much his as anyone's, and Damien had long since stopped objecting to this on the grounds that the objection was both futile and unnecessary."She looked at you," Nathan said, not as a preamble to anything, simply as an observation released into the room."Most people look at each other. It is a standard feature of social interaction.""Not the way she looked at you." Nathan swirled his glass. "And not the way you looked at her when you thought I wasn't watching. Which, for the record, I always am."Damien said nothing. He held his own