Chapter 158: The Unexpected Mishap

After stepping out of the bathroom, Lucas Zeller collapsed face-first onto the large bed. The sharp, stoic expression he had been maintaining fell away, leaving only exhaustion and sorrow etched across his handsome face.

Lucas knew he had gone too far with the things he had said earlier. He also knew Claire Grace wasn't the cold, selfish, calculating person he had accused her of being. Deep down, he recognized the kindness in her, but something within him pushed him to hurt her. It was as if he couldn't help himself. And though he was well aware that his grief over Blaire's death wouldn't bring her back, knowing that didn't make it any easier.

Blaire's laughter, her gentle smiles, and the words she had spoken in life haunted him. Most of all, her final words before she'd ended her own life echoed in his mind like a curse, a constant reminder of his guilt.

Perhaps, Lucas thought, some distance between him and Claire might help their relationship recover. It could provide an opportunity for a new beginning. That's why, even though he regretted his harsh words as soon as they left his mouth, he didn't stop her from leaving.

Lost in thought, Lucas was startled by the sound of approaching footsteps outside his room. Moments later, a knock came at the door, followed by his mother's voice.

"Claire, why haven't you and Lucas come downstairs for dinner? The food's getting cold," Helen Zeller called.

Lucas, lying on his back, frowned. Had Claire flown out the window? How had his parents not noticed her leaving?

"Claire, you—" Helen began again.

"She's not here," Lucas interrupted as he opened the door. His dark eyes squinted against the bright hallway light. "You can eat without me."

"Not here?" Helen's voice rose in pitch. "Your father clearly saw her come back with bags of stuff. How could she not be here?" She turned toward her husband, Thomas Zeller. "Didn't you see her, or is your eyesight getting worse without your reading glasses?"

Thomas's expression soured. "What are you talking about? My eyesight's just fine. Claire's a grown woman, not a mosquito. Of course I saw her."

"You must have imagined it," Helen shot back, forgetting her original purpose for coming upstairs. "Why are you always so stubborn? Admit it, you need glasses!"

Thomas crossed his arms defensively. "Oh, so now you're calling me old? Let's talk about who's really getting wrinkles and—"

"Are you seriously bringing up my wrinkles?" Helen retorted, hands on her hips. "You've got some nerve after all these years. Don't think I've forgotten about your bad habit of—"

Lucas closed the door and shook his head, retreating back to his room. His parents' bickering was so routine that he had long since built up immunity to it.

As he sat on the edge of the bed, he wondered, with a fleeting smirk, if he and Claire would end up like that someday when they were old.

---

The next day, Claire returned to the hospital carrying a few sets of Blaine Jackson's clothes and other items he had specifically requested. She also brought a pot of nutritious soup she had spent hours preparing. But as she pushed open the door to Blaine's hospital room, the scene before her made her gasp. She nearly dropped the pot in her hands.

Blaine was hopping on one foot in what could only be described as an absurd attempt at some sort of improvised acrobatics.

"Blaine, what are you doing?" Claire exclaimed, quickly setting the soup down and rushing over to support him. She hooked his arm over her shoulder, steadying him.

"I..." Blaine stammered, his face contorted in a mix of pain and embarrassment.

"Is your injury hurting?" Claire asked, noticing how pale he looked. She knew Blaine had always been squeamish about needles and pain—this had to be bad.

"It's not just that," Blaine admitted, gritting his teeth. "I really need to use the bathroom. Please help me over there. Now."

"Why didn't you say so earlier?" Claire muttered, struggling under his weight as she guided him toward the bathroom.

What Blaine didn't reveal was that he had been drinking water nonstop to calm his nerves, only to realize too late the consequences of his actions. The hopping, as ridiculous as it looked, had been his last-ditch effort to hold everything in. If Claire hadn't arrived, he was seriously considering crawling to the bathroom.

As they finally reached the door, Blaine suddenly stopped.

"What now?" Claire asked, confused. "You're here. Go in."

"I can handle it from here," Blaine said, his voice tight with urgency. He could feel his face heating up. He definitely didn't want her sticking around while he handled his "problem."

"Alright," Claire replied, stepping back.

Blaine hastily hopped into the bathroom, but his relief was short-lived. A loud "thud" echoed out from behind the door, followed by a muffled groan.

Alarmed, Claire rushed back and pushed the door open to find Blaine sprawled on the floor, one leg raised awkwardly in the air.

"Blaine!" she exclaimed, staring at the scene in disbelief. "How did you manage to fall like this?"

"It's not my fault!" Blaine growled, his face twisted in frustration. "Some idiot spilled shower gel on the floor. My foot slipped, okay? I almost made things worse for my injured leg!"

Suppressing a laugh, Claire quickly stepped in to help. It took all her strength to pull him to his feet, her back pressing against the wall for leverage. Once upright, Blaine leaned heavily on her shoulder, his face pale and clammy.

"Are you alright?" Claire asked, patting his back gently. She was worried he'd faint.

"Barely," Blaine grumbled. "That's the last time I'm trusting this hospital's cleaning staff. Who leaves slippery stuff all over the place?"

"Let me grab a mop and clean it up for you. Then you can try again," Claire offered.

"Forget it," Blaine said, shaking his head. "Just help me back to bed. I don't even need to go anymore."

Claire raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. Together, they made their way back to the bed, where Blaine collapsed with a groan. As ridiculous as the situation had been, she couldn't help but feel a strange sense of warmth. Blaine might be exasperating at times, but moments like these reminded her why she cared so much.