Chapter 157: Overwhelming Embarrassment

Oh, God! He was utterly mortified. Just the thought of his usual image as a tough and aloof stylist—a man of bold independence admired by all—shattering because he fainted from a fear of needles was almost too much to bear. If the media caught wind of this, the headlines would scream: *"The Inside Story of How Blaine Jackson, Renowned Stylist Extraordinaire, Fainted—And It Wasn't from a Hairdryer Mishap!"*

It was over. His carefully cultivated reputation, the image he'd spent years building, had crumbled in an instant. And if that wasn't bad enough, wasn't it true he had been so distracted—possibly thinking of her—that he walked erratically across the street and managed to drive his car straight into a guardrail?

See, love was the most dangerous thing. More terrifying than floods or wild beasts. Falling for someone led to nothing but trouble—just look at him! And this wasn't even mutual love; it was a one-sided infatuation he couldn't even admit to himself. For his own safety, he needed to stay far, far away from her… from—

"Blaine, you're awake!"

Before he could finish his thought, Claire Grace appeared right in front of him. He had no idea how she got there, but her presence confirmed his worst suspicion: fate was testing him, daring him to prove his resolve to distance himself from her. His reaction? A stony, emotionless expression as he faced Claire's questioning gaze with complete indifference.

"Blaine, what's with the blank stare? Did you hit your head so hard you lost your senses?" Lauren Wells rolled her eyes dramatically and raised two fingers as if to poke at his eyes. Blaine reflexively dodged, startled, and finally blurted out:

"Wait… You're real?"

Claire and Lauren exchanged baffled glances.

"Blaine, are you serious right now?" Lauren, who had been ready to leave, casually plopped herself down on the edge of his hospital bed. Her sharp eyes studied him for a long moment before she quipped, "You didn't lose your mind—you probably fainted and saw the ghost of some legendary figure instead. What's with all this talk about people being 'real'? You're killing me."

"Lauren," Claire interjected gently, "Blaine's probably just disoriented from waking up. You said you were in a hurry to get home, right? You should go."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll leave him to you, then." Lauren waved dismissively at them as she exited the room.

"Claire, what did she mean, 'leave him to you'?" Blaine asked, utterly confused.

"She means I'm here to take care of you." Claire pulled a chair over to his bedside, sat down, and carefully lifted the blanket from his injured leg. Sure enough, a stark white bandage covered the wound on his lower leg. "Does it hurt a lot, Blaine?" she asked softly.

"…." For any man, answering a question like that was nothing short of humiliating. A real tough guy would flex his biceps and laugh off the pain. And sure, Blaine *could* flex his arms to show off his muscles, but what would be the point? He was terrified of needles! The pain from even a simple shot was enough to make him break into a cold sweat. And hadn't he just embarrassed himself by fainting?

"So… why are you here to take care of me?" Deflecting the topic seemed like the wisest move.

"Oh, Lauren called me and said you were hurt, so she asked me to come."

"Lauren asked you?" That explained how Claire knew about his injury. "Honestly, my leg's injured, but I could just hire a nurse. You don't have to take care of me." Blaine's tone softened as he tried to dissuade her. He didn't want her to feel obligated, especially not when his own feelings for her were so complicated.

"Blaine, you've always been so kind to me. It's really no trouble. Since you can't work while you're recovering, I can just keep you company instead." Claire rushed to explain, worried he might refuse her help.

"Fine," Blaine relented. "Then why don't you grab me some takeout and head home? I'll be fine here." He winced inwardly. Being alone with her in the same room, day and night, was dangerous. It opened the door to all sorts of messy, unnecessary thoughts—thoughts he definitely shouldn't be having. He mentally slapped himself for even entertaining such ideas.

"Blaine, I'm not just here for tonight," Claire admitted in a small voice. "I might have to take care of you for the whole week."

"What?" Blaine's eyes widened in disbelief. "The whole week? What about your fiancé? Lucas won't agree to this, will he?"

"Don't worry. We already talked about it. He's really busy right now, so…" Claire's voice trailed off awkwardly as she looked away, pretending to busy herself with dinner preparations.

"You're hiding something from me," Blaine said firmly. "Sit down. I'm not hungry yet, so why don't you peel me an orange?"

Caught off guard, Claire hesitated but eventually walked over to the fruit basket. She picked up an orange, carefully cut it into wedges, and gingerly held one up to Blaine's mouth.

"Hey, do you really think I wanted the orange?" Blaine scoffed. "Sit down."

Claire obediently sat back in the chair.

"Did Lucas kick you out?" Blaine cut straight to the point, his voice low and serious.

"Huh?" Claire blinked, startled by his accuracy.

"Don't play dumb!" Blaine gestured toward the suitcase in the corner of the room. "You've got your luggage with you. Don't tell me you planned to stay for a whole week just to take care of me from the start. Lucas doesn't seem like the type to be okay with this kind of arrangement."

"It's not like that," Claire said quietly. "He just suggested we spend some time apart. And honestly, I think it's a good idea. Maybe some distance will help us sort things out. That way, when we're together again, there won't be any lingering doubts or barriers."

"Do you really believe that?" Blaine muttered. What kind of man would push her away like this? "What's his number?"

Claire froze for a few seconds. "Blaine, there's no need to call him. We've already discussed everything, and besides, his phone is off most of the time. Roy's managing things at the company while he's away."

"Are you sure this was a mutual decision?" Blaine pressed.

"I'm sure! I really am!" Claire insisted, even if she wasn't entirely certain. Anything to stop Blaine from storming into the Zeller household and causing a scene.

"Fine. I'll trust you for now. But if he doesn't call you back within a week, we'll reevaluate," Blaine said, finally accepting the orange wedge she was holding out.

Strangely, it tasted sweeter than usual.