Even if it meant divorcing Ste.


    Right now-maybe it was the fever, maybe it was something else-Haynes felt a strange, unsettling emotion flicker through his chest.


    "Haynie, Haynie, are you even listening to me?"


    Rachel''s voice yanked him out of his thoughts.


    Haynes blinked, regaining hisposure. Whatever odd feeling had surfaced in his heart vanished, dissolving as quickly as it came.


    His voice was hoarse. "Call Ste. Tell her toe to the hospital. Now."


    Rachel assumed Haynes meant to confront Ste, so she just nodded. "Alright."


    Ste took her time heading to the hospital, only leaving her apartment after finishing a leisurely breakfast.


    As she reached the doorway to Haynes''s room, she heard Rachel''s voice from inside.


    "Haynie, just have a bite, please. If you don''t eat something, how are you supposed to get better?"


    There was a pause, then Haynes replied, his tone rough and weary. "No. I''m not hungry."


    Rachel seemed ready to keep pleading, but Ste knocked and stepped into the room.


    As she entered, a flicker of something passed through Haynes''s eyes. Instinctively, his gaze dropped to her hands.


    Ste carried nothing but her purse-not even a simple bouquet for the patient. She hadn''t brought any of the homemade remedies she was so famous for, either. His expression darkened.


    Ste quickly took in the scene: Rachel was standing by the bed, holding a steaming bowl of soup, looking ready to spoon-feed Haynes. He, for his part, looked anything but willing.


    ncing at the bowl in Rachel''s


    hands, Ste offered a bit of unsolicited advice. "Ms. Pearce, O''Brien''s a picky eater. He''s not going to touch anything


    vel


    store-bought. You''ll have to make the soup yourself if you want him to


    eat."


    Truth was, Haynes hadn''t always been this particr. Years of Ste''s cooking


    had simply spoiled his pte.


    Rachel''s face turned cold the moment she saw Ste.


    "So, Ms. Cameron, are you here to beg Haynie for forgiveness?"


    Ste''s smile was faint, almost amused. "If anyone should be asking for


    forgiveness, it''s him—not me."


    Her gaze shiftedzily to Haynes. "Well, Mr. O''Brien, how are you feeling now?"


    He looked at her. "I want your cooking. Make me some soup."


    Rachel''s face froze.


    Ste didn''t so much as flinch. "If you want soup, ask Ms. Pearce or the housekeeper. Haynes, I''m not your maid anymore."


    His dark eyes reflected her indifference.


    In the past, whenever he was sick or hurt, Ste''s eyes would fill with concern. Now, she looked at him like he was a stranger.


    Something in his voice sounded unsteady. "Ste, with that attitude, aren''t you worried I''ll hold you ountable for what happened?"


    She met his gaze, unfazed. "Would you really?"


    Catching the way Rachel''s face twisted, Ste smiled a little. "Don''t get me wrong. I''m not talking about whether you''d miss me. I''m talking about my studio-and the music I''ve written."


    Then she turned to Rachel. "Ms. Pearce, there''s no need to treat me like a threat: Mr. O''Brien''s gone out of his way to pave the road for


    If he hadn''t pushed so hard, left no


    space for anyone else, I woeft no


    have been forced to cut ties so abruptly. The fact that he''s in the hospital now just shows how much he cares for you."


    Rachel''s eyes widened, clearly surprised by this revtion. For a moment,


    something like gratitude softened her expression. "Everything you''ve done for me,


    I truly appreciate. But..."