Chapter 59 Regretting Not Being With Him?

"Edward and... Natalie Quinn?" Eleanor's mind ground to a halt.

She thought she must have misheard.

Edward, with his gentle, modest, and sunny demeanor, seemed like a world apart from Natalie Quinn, the only child of the Quinn family's uncle—a family notorious for its unruly nature. Putting her and Edward together was like oil and water.

Natalie was the same age as Eleanor, and during their school days, Eleanor had always outperformed her academically. Natalie had made no secret of her disdain for Eleanor, who, despite some petulant behaviors, was not bad at heart.

Hadn't she heard rumors of Natalie chasing after some athlete?

Could it have been Edward?

Seeing Eleanor lost in thought, Aaron's voice turned icy. "What, not thrilled about their engagement?"

Eleanor, surprised by his annoyance, wrapped the blanket tighter around her. "What's it to me?"

Why should she feel happy or unhappy about it?

Besides...

"Tomorrow's the anniversary of my dad's passing."

She had told him she planned to return to G City, and she meant it. Every year, she paid respects at her father's grave, and not going this year would unsettle her.

"In your current condition, heading to G City might land you beside your dad if you're not careful," Aaron spat out with a venom that surprised even her; she knew he could be harsh, but this was too much.

It got Eleanor thinking—how could Mr. Quinn, a college professor, and Mrs. Quinn, a concert pianist known for their kind natures, have raised a son like Aaron? They had been compassionate towards her, much more so than most others in the Quinn family.

The more she stewled, the angrier she got, but having no way to counter him, she simply pulled the blanket over her head.

Aaron promptly yanked the blanket away and dragged her out of bed. "So, playing the turtle when you can't win an argument, huh? Ashton said you need to move around more."

"I don't have the strength," she said truthfully.The sedative she'd been given was too strong; except for handling a spoon or pulling a blanket, she was virtually helpless, relying on the nurse to even use the restroom.

She even feared she might be half-paralyzed for the rest of her life.

A mocking smile curled on Aaron's lips. "Weren't you just talking about going to G City?"

He knew exactly how to get under her skin.

Eleanor could only glare at him with her big, expressive eyes, filled with indignation but saying nothing. With her pale complexion, she looked far from imposing—just pitiable.

"Get up," Aaron ordered, gripping the blanket's edge, standing by the bed with a stance that brooked no argument.
Two minutes later, the nurse came with the IV stand, hanging the fluid bag securely in place. Eleanor wanted to offer some assistance, and although Aaron was closest to her, she reached out to the nurse instead, "Could you give me a hand?"

"Just a moment, I've got you," the nurse replied.

Before the nurse could act, Aaron reached out, lifting Eleanor from the bed with a firm grip to support her weakened frame. In a low, gruff voice that grazed her ear, he teased, "What's with the fuss?"

Their proximity allowed his warm breath to wrap around her ear, causing a tingly sensation that made her blush a fiery red.

Pretending to look away casually, she then withdrew her hand and clutched the IV stand steadied on wheels, which she relied on for support as she walked.

The hallway was quiet except for the nurse's station; evidently, Eleanor realized she was the only patient on the entire floor.

It made sense, given that her relationship with Aaron was meant to be shielded from prying eyes.

With both hands on the stand, she moved slowly forward, reminiscent of post-cesarean scenes she had only witnessed on television shows.

Out of the corner of her eye, she stealthily studied Aaron.

The man had shed his suit jacket, sporting a crisp white shirt and black vest, accentuated by a sapphire tie clip nestled between the third and fourth buttons. His shirt sleeves, rolled up and secured, hinted at the defined muscles beneath.

His retro charm and poise drew many a glance from the young nurses at their station.

Aaron was undeniably handsome, with distinct and superior bone structure—it was clear he could thrive as a star, fitting into roles from any era with ease.

He hadn't mentioned a word about last night's occurrences, including anything about Vincent.

Moreover, from what Ashton had disclosed, Eleanor deduced that Aaron had entirely extracted her from the incident's narrative—no one in the Quinn family knew of the night's events apart from him.

Any further discussion would undoubtedly stir considerable commotion, which Eleanor dared not delve into. The current silence between them was peculiar enough. Searching for a lighter topic, she asked, "How did Natalie Quinn end up with Edward?"

She wasn't feeling herself too much; just a few days ago, she had crossed paths with Edward at the airport, and clearly, he hadn't moved on yet.

"You do care, after all," Aaron halted, looking down at her with an inscrutable expression that masked both pleasure and annoyance.

She shivered involuntarily, as if a chill had enveloped her, and said with a hint of indifference, "Just asking. If it's not something you can talk about, never mind."

Aaron glanced at the IV bag to check the fluid level and adjusted the drip rate slower, then called over a nurse to change the medication. Eleanor thought he would remain silent, but then he revealed,

"Edward got drunk and called Natalie Quinn to pick him up. They got together, and paparazzi caught them going into a hotel room."
Eleanor's first instinct told her that Edward wasn't that kind of man. But then Aaron mentioned that he had been drinking, and people do all sorts of things when they're drunk or down in the dumps.

Down in the dumps.

She figured it had to be something recent. Edward always held himself to rigid standards, rarely drinking, let alone getting drunk—unless something major had happened.

Could it be because of her?

"What's on your mind?" Suddenly, Aaron grasped her chin, forcing her to look up and not missing the fleeting sorrow in her eyes.

"Regretting not being with him?" Aaron's grip tightened as he sneered, “What is it with you and the Harris family, Eleanor? You care so deeply for each of them?"

"You keep me on the hook while playing ambiguous games with them. I never knew you were so fickle."

What about the Harris family? Besides Edward, who else was there? Colin Harris?

"Who's stringing you along?" Eleanor wrenched her face from his grasp, nearly losing her balance in the effort. The glass IV bottle clanged against the metal stand, almost shattering.

Aaron's face darkened as he steadied the IV stand with one hand, "Don't tell me you didn't use me as a pawn in your little revenge game against Vincent?"

There it was—the heart of the matter.

Eleanor choked, speechless because she had indeed done that.

"One moment you talk about cutting ties with me, the next you use me as a pawn. What is this, Aaron?"

He was moments away from accusing her of playing both sides.

Eleanor's face turned ashen, her lips tight, "What choice did I have? You know very well what Vincent did to me, yet you always took her side. Have you ever considered why she targets me at every turn?"

"That's just twisting the facts!"

Eleanor bit her lower lip so hard, tears nearly spilled. Stubbornly, she turned and walked away, her step faltering as she clutched the railing, not seeing Aaron's hand briefly reaching out before pulling back.

Watching her defiant departure, Aaron agitatedly yanked at his tie. The expensive sapphire tie clip fell to the floor unnoticed as he fumbled for his cigarette case and headed to Ashton’s office.