Novel Name : Resent, Reject, Regret

Resent, Reject, Regret Resent Reject, Regret By Aqua Summers Chapter 259

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Chapter 259 Aren’t You… Mad?

Deirdre nodded, and Brendan-to the young woman’s wildest bewilderment-asked,” Was it bad?”

She bit her lip in surprise. “A-Aren’t you mad?”

Mad? Of course Brendan was mad. Furious, even. Furious for an entire day. He had been downright

apoplectic in the evening, when he’d waited and waited for Deirdre to come home on time. Every

second had burned!

So what? All that rage had melted away-how could he stay mad after witnessing the lengths this

woman would go to just to conceal her injury and the pain it caused her? How could he honestly tell

himself that her maddening refusal to be candid was not motivated by her fear of his reaction?

“If you could just… If you had just told me frankly that you were suffering from an injury, I would have

calmed down much sooner!”

Brendan went downstairs and called Dr. Ginger on the phone in the living room. As he ordered the

doctor to come as soon as possible, Deirdre quickly protested from the bed. “W-Wait! You don’t need to

get Dr. Ginger! It’s late, Brendan! B-Besides, I had a checkup at the hospital. It’s not a big deal-”

“He’s just doing what he’s being paid to do, Deirdre. What’s debatable about that?” Brendan argued.

“Besides, I need to know what exactly the nature of your injury is and how severe it is.”

He would remember this day. He would remember why she had not picked candor and why she would

rather be maltreated than just tell the truth.

Brendan would make sure this never happened again.

“It’s not severe, seriously! I swear, it’s not debilitating or anything…”

“Of course, you industrial spirit! Ain’t gonna let a broken arm stop us from going to work, are we?” he

quipped.

Deirdre turned quiet. Brendan seized the chance and added, “Look. You don’t have to worry, okay? I

promise you can go to work, and that’s a promise I intend to keep. You have the right and freedom to

work, alright? You don’t have to fret about it so much.”

He then walked out of the bedroom. Deirdre stared at the floor from her spot in a

daze.

Brendan returned with a bag of ice. He settled it gently on her injured elbow, until the

sharp sting of pain subsided into blunt pressure, and then led her downstairs. Dr. Ginger arrived just in

time, and as soon as he saw his patient, he quickly undid the bandage and gave it a good look.

“Did you take an X-ray?”

Deirdre nodded. “The doctor said it was a medium-degree sprain.”

“That’s reassuring. It’s not as bad as it looks, then.” The doctor redressed her injury.” But an injury like

this necessitates a break from playing the piano. You need to let your arm heal, after all, and that

means not putting too much strain on your injured arm. Otherwise, the whole thing could get worse.”

Deirdre paled. “I-Isn’t there a way out of this?” she stammered, her hesitance marked. “A way I could

play the piano without hurting my arm?”

Dr. Ginger took a sharp breath. “Bless your heart for even thinking about it!” He exhaled. “You’re not

gonna play a toy piano, ma’am. This isn’t some mild injury we can handwave away. This is serious

enough that I would be thanking God that my bone is somehow fine. Had you hurt your bone, you

would have had your arm in a cast!”

Deirdre bit her lip. She knew how ludicrous she sounded.

Brendan’s expression darkened. Suddenly, he said, “It wouldn’t be a problem if you could play the

piano with one hand. The question is: Can you?”

Deirdre’s eyes twinkled. “Of course I can!”

“Mr. Brighthall!” Dr. Ginger was startled. No one had been more paternalistic to Deirdre than this guy-

and yet he was the encouraging one today?!

How could Deirdre’s work allow her to play with one hand? It was a job. Not some kind of physical

therapy.

Brendan ignored Dr. Ginger’s surprise and fixed his eyes on Deirdre. “I gave you a wood-carved music

sheet book, didn’t I? It was supposed to have been composed by a disabled pianist. It was made for

players with a different dominant hand than yours, Deirdre, but if you can overcome that… you could

still go to work.”

“I… could?!” Deirdre’s empty eyes suddenly seemed animated with joy. A smile- mirthful and alive-

dawned on her face. It was the first time she had ever smiled so happily in her life. “I can do it! I can do

it, I know I can!”

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