<b>Chapter </b><b>240 </b>
<b>The </b>flight back was uneventful. When wended, a sleek ck Haxton vehicle was waiting for us at the airport. The drive to my apartment was quiet, with human Zach still brooding in the front seat while the Doberman sat contentedly beside me.
My apartment felt smaller after Lawrence’s sprawling mansion, but it was familiar and mine. Human Zach immediately moved to check each room, his security training evident in his methodical approach, while the dog explored his new surroundings with enthusiasm.
“I’ll stay here for a few nights,” Ethan said, setting my bag down in the living room. It wasn’t a question.
“That’s not necessary,” I replied. “I can manage on my own.”
“Your vision-”
“Is improving every day,” I cut him off. “Besides, I know you have meetings tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your work.”
He studied my face for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. “At least take your medicine before I go.”
I did as he asked, grimacing at the bitter taste. He watched me drink it, then reluctantly headed for the door. “I’ll
check on you tomorrow,” he promised.
After he left, I stood in my living room, taking in the blurry outlines of my furniture. Better than yesterday, but still
far from normal.
Max came to visit that evening, his familiar awkward shuffle announcing his arrival before I opened the door.
“Jade!” He hugged me tightly, then pulled back to examine me with worried eyes. “Are you really okay? Your eyes-”
“Will be fine in a few days,” I assured him. “The treatment’s working.”
He nodded, then noticed Zach standing silently by the kitchen counter. “Oh! Zach. I wanted to thank you for helping my sister. Are you alright?”
Zach merely nodded, his expression unreadable. Max stood there awkwardly, clearly intimidated by Zach’s stoic demeanor<b>. </b>
I was ying with the Doberman’s cor tag when the doorbell rang again. Through the security camera feed on my phone, I saw Chase Astor shifting from foot to foot.
Before I could open the door, the dog bolted past me, somehow managing to turn the handle with his mouth. The door swung open.
“Hey, you got a dog!” Chase grinned, reaching down to pet him. The Doberman growled, baring his teeth.
Chase jerked his hand back, but the dog was already moving, chasing him down the hallway. I heard Chase’s panicked yell fade as he ran, the dog in hot pursuit.
Over the next few days, Ethan came by each evening around seven. On the fifth night, I was in the bathroom attempting to wash my hair when he arrived. The shampoo bottle slipped from my hands, ttering to the floor.
“Need help?” Ethan’s voice came from the doorway.
I hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, actually.”
He picked up the fallen shampoo and moved behind me, taking the handheld shower head. His fingers were careful as they worked through my hair, adjusting the water temperature perfectly.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice close to my ear.
“Yeah,” I murmured, closing my eyes as his fingers massaged my scalp. It felt unexpectedly intimate, his hands moving through my hair with gentle precision.
When he finished washing, he wrapped my hair in a towel, his movements gradually slowing. I could feel his breath on my forehead, and when I opened my eyes, his face was much closer than I expected.
Ethan leaned in slowly, his eyes focused on my forehead as if he meant to press his lips there<b>. </b>My gaze lifted to his face, and our eyes met.
He froze. “You can see me.”
“Better than before. Still not perfect.”
Ethan straightened, putting distance between us again, but his hands remained on the towel around my hair. He continued drying it as if nothing had happened.
“How long have you been able to see?” he asked casually, his fingers working through the damp strands.
“Since this morning,” I admitted. “Things are much clearer now.”
He nodded, continuing his task withoutment. But I took the towel from his hands, breaking the contact between <ol><li><b>us</b><b>. </b></li></ol>
“I can handle it from here,” I said softly, stepping away.
Ethan watched me walk out of the bathroom, his expression unreadable. “I’ll clean up,” he said simply.