Resent, Reject, Regret Chapter 606

Just Like Old Times

Brendan shot her a sideways glance. Deadpanned, he asked, "And how did you guess that?" "I
knocked on your door a while ago, and no one answered, so I went to ask the front desk," answered
Deirdre candidly. "She was the one who told me you went out last night."

Brendan shut his eyes tiredly. ‘That's true,” he said flatly. "I went out."

Deirdre sank into silence. She looked at him, her confusion growing as seconds crawled. Was he not
going to explain himself? Explain why he went out?

She took a deep breath and asked, 'The receptionist said you were looking for phone stores. Now, why
would you do that?"

He rested for a bit before twitching his lips into a smirk. "What answer are you hoping to gain,
McKinnon?”

Deirdre was stunned.

"Do you want me to say, ‘Oh, I went to look for a phone store late at night for your sake? Because I
don't want you to be sad anymore?’ Or do you expect me to say, ‘Because I really care for you!’",
hmm?”

Deirdre was hard-pressed to answer him. If anything, she began to feel a small, but not insignificant,
fire lighting up in her chest. She had not expected any of those answers at all!

"Please, Mr. Brighthall. I know how little worth I hold in your heart, so don't fret about me somehow
misunderstanding you. It's practically impossible for me to harbor any hope for decency in you! So rest
easy. I didn't think of any of those things,” she retorted firmly, her shots fired.



It was Brendan’s turn to fall silent. As he rested his fingers on the edge of the couch, he could see them
trembling a little.

"I just don't understand the urgency." She continued. "Why did you have to go that extra length at all?”

"Because my phone was busted too.”

Deirdre’s frown finally relaxed. “Oh, so that's why. Sorry about that."

Brendan's lips parted slightly. ‘There’s nothing to be sorry about. It was a willing rescue on my part. I
have no regrets," he explained.

"But I can't live without my phone. I need to contact people, so I went out late at night. It was that
urgent."

Deirdre nodded.

"I asked about your phone," he added. ‘The repairman said it can be fixed, but he will need time.”

‘Thank you,” she said. It came from the heart.

"If you are grateful, then give me a head massage. My temples are hurting like crazy, but I remember
you were good at it."

Deirdre had gone out of her way to learn some massaging techniques in the past just so she could
spend some alone time with Brendan for as long as she could squeeze. The utility bought her a place
by his side when he needed it, and it bought her precious time. He rarely talked to her during the
massage, but it was enough to satisfy her.

But that was back then. Now?



Deirdre clenched her hands. “Sorry, but I've lost both my sight and the techniques. I'll probably just
worsen your headache, so no.”

Brendan cast an aside glance at her for a long time. Then, suddenly, he said, "I’m not asking you to
massage my head for free. Do it, and I'll let you call Kyran Reed.”

Deirdre raised her head immediately. After some intense debate in her head, she bit her lips.
"Promise?"

"Promise."

Any hesitance she had was lost. She made her way to Brendan and placed her fingers on his temples.
Then, she began to press slowly, gently, and skillfully.

Brendan closed his eyes as comfort settled in. His migraine was dissipating. His furrowed brows
relaxed. He had gotten so comfortable and relaxed that his guard was lowered, and he said, "You
know, I always wish we could just stay like this for the rest of our life, Deirdre. Just like old times."

Deirdre's fingers suddenly froze.

Brendan's eyes snapped open. He had realized, belatedly, that he had said something that was best
left unspoken. His features tightened. "I mean-"

"Just like old times? How exactly were ‘old times’ like?" Deirdre remarked so unamusingly that she
sounded almost like an unfeeling robot.

"Oh, right. When I was just a b*tch at your beck and call, who would come wagging her tail at you when
you needed her and then kicked away when she wasn't. When I was a worthless, glorified
housekeeper. When my purpose was comparable to a piece of chewing gum, a thing to be chewed at



and then spat out when I got stale. When I was an irritating, ingratiating nuisance who's.surprisingly
good at sex, and so was reluctantly allowed to sleep by your side. Yes. Your good old days.”

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