The Jilted Heiress' Return To The High Life

Chapter 82 Unyielding Affectionnoveldrama

Corrine's eyelashes fluttered weakly, a vain attempt to lift the heavy veil of darkness shrouding her vision. Try as she might, her body refused to obey, pulling her deeper into an abyss of dreamless sleep.

When she finally stirred again, her senses came alive to unfamiliar surroundings. Corrine sat up abruptly, her head still heavy, her gaze darting around the room.

This wasn't her room.

Panic laced her thoughts. "Where am I?" she murmured.

Before she could dwell on the question, the door creaked open, and a stranger stepped inside. The woman's face was calm, her smile warm as her eyes met Corrine's. "Miss Holland, you're awake," the woman greeted, her tone gentle.

Corrine's guard shot up instinctively. "And you are?" she asked.

The woman's smile widened, unbothered by Corrine's suspicion. "I'm the family maid here. You can call me Tanya if you like," she replied simply.

As if remembering something important, Tanya Hinchcliffe added, "Please excuse me for a moment, Miss Holland. I'll go inform Mr. Hopkins that you're awake."

Before Corrine could utter a word, Tanya had turned on her heel and slipped out of the

room.

The silence didn't last long. Soon, the sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor. These steps were heavier, more deliberate, and certainly not Tanya's. Corrine's gaze instinctively fixed on the doorway just as Nate appeared, dressed in a fitted black shirt that accentuated his tall, commanding frame.

For a moment, she froze, staring at him. His presence was striking, and the pieces clicked in her mind-the voice she'd heard faintly before she'd blacked out was indeed

Nate's. It hadn't been her imagination after all.

"Feeling better?" Nate's deep, steady voice broke the silence as he strode toward her. The bed dipped slightly as he sat down at her side, his hand resting gently against her forehead.

Corrine's breath hitched at the unexpected contact. She found herself gripping the sheets beneath her fingers as if they were a lifeline to steady her emotions.

"I'm fine," she murmured hoarsely, her throat dry, likely a lingering effect of the fever that had consumed her the night before.

Without a word, Nate reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and handed it to her. "Drink."

Before she could even manage a sip, Tanya reappeared in the doorway, carrying a tray. "Sir, the soup is ready."

Corrine's eyes shifted to the tray, noting the simple porcelain bowl that radiated a soft warmth.

Nate stood, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing strong forearms. "I'll take it," he said, his tone calm but firm.

Tanya smiled knowingly, glancing at Corrine with a hint of amusement. "Miss Holland, if you need anything, don't hesitate to let me know."

With that, she exited once more, quietly shutting the door behind her. The room fell into a silence that carried a faint note of awkwardness.

"You had acute gastroenteritis last night, which caused a high fever," Nate explained, his fingers skillfully stirring the soup in the bowl. He blew on it gently to cool the liquid before bringing the spoon to her lips. "Here. The doctor said you need to eat light for a few days."

"I can manage," Corrine said quickly, averting her gaze as she tried to take the bowl herself.

But Nate didn't budge. His persistence was firm yet unyielding, the spoon hovering near her lips.

After a brief hesitation, Corrine relented, opening her mouth for a sip.

The taste of the soup was bland, its warmth soothing but uninspiring. After a few spoonfuls, she shook her head. "I've had enough."

"You barely touched it," Nate countered, his tone softer now, almost coaxing. "Just a little more, and then I'll take you for a walk in the garden. Deal?"

Corrine looked up at him, her eyes tinged with a hint of reluctance, almost like a quiet plea. "But I really can't take another bite," she said, her voice soft.

Her own words startled her. When had she last sounded so fragile?

For as long as she could remember, sickness had been something she dealt with alone. She'd learned to soldier through, suppressing any sign of weakness. But Nate's calm, unwavering care had unlocked something buried deep within her-an ache for tenderness she didn't even know she carried.

The words hadn't been rehearsed; they'd slipped out naturally.

Perhaps, when faced with unyielding affection, everyone harbored a secret longing to let their guard down-to allow someone else to shoulder the weight, if only for a

moment.