Bound to my Enemy novel Chapter 218

Chapter 218: Chapter 218.

"I know," Lucas replies. "But this time... it’s different."

My chest tightens painfully as I walk back toward the bed slowly, sitting down without even realizing it.

"Is he conscious?" I ask.

"On and off," Lucas answers. "They’ve got him on a bunch of things. Monitoring him closely."

I press my lips together, trying to keep it together.

"I should come," I say quickly. "I should be there."

There’s a pause thhen....

"Yeah," Lucas says. "You probably should."

My throat feels tight.

"I’ll get ready and....."

"Elaine," he cuts in.

I stop.

"What?"

"You sure you want to come alone?" he asks. "Or do you want me to send someone?"

I hesitat for a second because my mind flickers...

"...I’ll figure it out," I say finally.

"Alright," Lucas replies. "Just don’t take too long."

"I won’t."

There’s another pause.

"I’ll keep you updated on the lab stuff too," he adds.

"Okay."

"And Elaine..."

"Yeah?"

"Hang in there."

My chest tightens again.

"I will," I say quietly.

The line goes silent after that and I pull the phone away slowly, staring at the screen for a second before it goes dar and just like everything feels different because now it’s not just about me Or Zane.

Now.... Its Grandpa and the thought that I might lose him....it hits harder than anything else so far.

I don’t waste time the moment the call ends, I move.

Everything feels rushed, tight, like there’s something sitting heavy in my chest that won’t let me slow down. I grab the first decent outfit I can find, something simple but presentable, my hands moving faster than my thoughts as I rush through my routine, bath brush and dress I don’t even remember half of it when I’m done, my mind is somewhere else entirely.

Grandpa.

I grab my phone and head out of my room, my steps quicker than usual as I make my way downstairs.

When I step into the dining area...He’s already there.

Zane.

He’s Sitting at the table like he always does, calm, composed, a cup of coffee in his hand like this is just another morning.

For a second, I pause.

Because everything from last night flashes through my head without warning. The wall, his hand on me, and that kiss.

My lips press together briefly before I push it aside.

Now is not the time, his eyes lift the moment I step in, they land on me and stay. Not long, not like last night but long enough.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

Straight to it I see. No greeting.

I walk toward the table, trying to keep my pace steady.

"My grandpa is in the hospital," I say. "Lucas called. It’s serious.

Something shifts in his expression.

"Sit," he says, gesturing to the chair across from him.

I blink.

"What?"

"Sit and eat first," he repeats, like it’s obvious. "I’ll take you."

I hesitate, part of me wants to refuse, part of me wants to just grab my bag and leav but the other part....The part that knows I might not even be thinking straight right now....Wins.

"...fine," I mutter.

I pull out the chair and sit..Margaret appears almost immediately, like she’s been waiting for me.

"Oh my dear," she says softly, her eyes scanning my face like she already knows something’s wrong. "You look pale."

"I’m fine," I say quickly.

She doesn’t look convinced but she doesn’t press. Instead, she sets a plate in front of me.

"Eat," she says gently. "You’ll need your strength."

I nod faintly, the food smells good so I pick up my fork and take a bite. Then another and another. I’m not even tasting it. I’m just... eating, hoving it down like it’s something I need to get out of the way. Because my mind isn’t here, itt’s somewhere else entirely.

With him...Grandpa and the memories come without warning

He wasn’t always like this, not the strict, cold man everyone sees now. When we were kids....He was different So different.

I remember sneaking into his study, small feet against the floor, trying not to make nois and he’d always pretend not to notice until I got close enough.

Then he’d suddenly look up, pretend to be surprised, and say, "Ah, caught you."

And I’d laugh, every time.

He used to keep sweets hidden in his drawer, not for himself, fr me.

"For emergencies," he used to say.

But we both knew what that meant. I’d sit on his lap, legs swinging, while he handed me one piece after another, telling me not to let my parents find out and He’d wink like it was our little secret and I’d nod like it was the most serious thing in the world.

I smile faintly at the memory then it fades just as quickly beecause things changed, eveverything changed after my parents died...He changed, I guess he had to.

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