Chapter 76

Eleanor's POV

Something in his tone made my heart twist. I'd known Jace for years, had always seen him as the composed one, the reliable one. Seeing him like this felt wrong.

"Come on," I said and struggled to help him sit on the floor, leaning against the wall. "Let's get you some water."

As I watched him take small sips, I realized my anger from earlier had completely evaporated. Sometimes the universe had a funny way of shifting your perspective.

"ACHOO!" Jace let out a violent sneeze. He was allergic to perfume. The stronger the scent, the more severe his allergic reaction.

I knew this - it was intentional. I specifically wore strong perfume to keep him at a distance. Tonight, whenever I had come over to drink with Drew and the others, he'd deliberately moved away.

I stepped back further. He sneezed several more times in rapid succession.

Then, with visible effort, he struggled to his feet.

I watched as he hunched over the bathroom sink, splashing cold water on his face. His movements were precise despite his obvious discomfort, transforming from the man who'd been violently sick moments ago into someone attempting to piece together his dignity.

"You haven't left yet?" His voice cut through the silence, sharp and cold. He straightened his back, drops of water still clinging to his jaw.

"Was just about to." I kept my tone deliberately flat, though my eyes lingered on his reflection in the mirror. The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows under his eyes, making him look even more exhausted than he probably felt.

When he asked about Drew, I couldn't keep the bite from my voice. "He was completely wasted."

Jace's shoulders tensed slightly at my words, but before I could analyze his reaction, he turned to face me. "Let's go. We can share a ride back."

I hesitated, surprised by the offer. The smart thing would be to refuse, but something made me pause. *It's not like I'm the one who'll suffer*, I told myself, ignoring the little voice that suggested otherwise.

The walk to the car was silent, my heels clicking as I deliberately stayed a few steps ahead. Behind me, I could hear his measured footsteps occasionally interrupted by a suppressed cough.

Once inside the car, my strategy began to backfire spectacularly. The enclosed space amplified the sweet, heavy scent of my perfume. Jace tried to maintain his composure, but the periodic sneezes betrayed him.

"Drive faster," I instructed driver, watching Jace's reflection in the window as he struggled to maintain his dignity.

"Safety first," Jace managed between sneezes, his voice hoarse.

I rolled my eyes, though something in my chest tightened at his obvious discomfort. "I just can't stand your sneezing," I said, the words coming out sharper than intended. It was easier this way - letting him think I was merely irritated rather than concerned.

The perfume continued its assault in the confined space of the car, and I found myself lowering the window slightly, allowing the cool night air to filter in.

The car finally pulled up to the Harrington mansion, its headlights cutting through the darkness. Before I could say anything, Jace practically threw himself out of the vehicle, stumbling toward the corner of the building. The sounds of his retching made my stomach clench.

"Should we call the family doctor..." I started to approach him, but another violent sneeze stopped me in my tracks.

"ACHOO!" He was a mess - trying to throw up and sneeze at the same time. I'd never seen him look so vulnerable, so utterly stripped of his usual composure.

"I'm calling the doctor to come here," I announced, already pulling out my phone.

The family doctor ended up having to support Jace back to his room. He could barely stand on his own feet. After a quick shower, I emerged to find his door still open, warm light spilling into the hallway. I hesitated for a moment before my feet carried me inside.

"How is he?" I asked the doctor, trying to keep my voice neutral even as my eyes fixed on Jace's pallid face.

"Excessive drinking... He'll need an endoscopy tomorrow at the hospital."

"That serious?" The words escaped before I could stop them.

The doctor nodded gravely. "Mr. Gillard already has superficial gastritis..."

"How long will the IV take?" I glanced at the dripping fluid, then at my phone. 1 AM glared back at me.

"One to two hours."

My mind immediately went to tomorrow's schedule. He was supposed to be directing...

"Don't worry, miss. I'll stay by Mr. Gillard's side," the doctor assured me.

Later, lying in my own bed, sleep refused to come. The events of the evening kept replaying in my mind. I suddenly realized something I'd missed before - every time Drew had tried to drink with me, Jace had intercepted, taking the glass himself.

A strange warmth bloomed in my chest at the realization, but I quickly squashed it down. *Don't do this to yourself*, I thought fiercely. *Don't give yourself any hope or expectations!*

Still, as I tossed and turned, I couldn't help but remember how he'd looked in that corner of the mansion - sick and sneezing but still somehow maintaining that stubborn dignity of his. The image wouldn't leave me alone, no matter how hard I tried to push it away.