The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 185

Susan pulled her down onto the seat directly across from him.

"I ran into him while grocery shopping downstairs."

"He got hurt and had to take some time off work, so I invited him up for dinner."

Miles finally raised his head, his gaze landing squarely on Claire.

His eyes were chillingly hollow, devoid of any decipherable emotion. He looked at her as if she were a total stranger.

"Thank you for having me," he replied smoothly.

"Oh, please! We're the ones who owe you. Claire can be a bit slow to show her gratitude, but we truly appreciate everything you did for us at the hospital," Susan gushed sincerely.

"Slow to show gratitude." Miles repeated the phrase, shooting Claire a cold, mocking look. "I never would have guessed."

"You should have seen her as a little girl. She was so absent-minded," Susan laughed, pulling a thick photo album from beneath the coffee table.

Claire immediately slammed her hand over it. "Mom, what are you doing?"

"Dr. Zimmerman isn't a stranger; he saved my life. What's the harm in letting him look?"

Ignoring her protests, Susan flipped the album open.

"Here she is at four or five..."

Seeing the picture of the tiny girl with braided pigtails, the corner of Miles's mouth quirked up slightly.

But as she turned another page, Susan froze.

It was a photo of Claire and Jefferson from their college graduation.

They were both wearing their caps and gowns, smiling radiantly at the camera.

The hint of a smile vanished from Miles's face as an imperceptible shadow fell over his eyes.

Susan immediately yanked the photo out and tossed it into the trash. "Claire, why are you still keeping this garbage?"

Claire sighed. "Mom, I wasn't. You're the one who's been holding onto that album."

"Well, I must have forgotten to throw it out." Susan warned her sternly, "Claire, I forbid you from ever seeing Jefferson again."

"I know, Mom."

Having lost the mood to reminisce, Susan shut the book.

"I'll go get dinner ready. Claire, keep him company."

Susan bustled off to the kitchen.

Claire kept her head bowed, at a total loss for words. Grabbing her purse, she stood up to go drop it off in her bedroom.

A second later, her bedroom door was pushed open.

Miles stepped inside and quietly clicked the door shut behind him.

Claire looked up at him. "I'm sorry my mom dragged you up here. She's been wanting to cook for you for a while."

"I'll make sure she stops bothering you."

Miles's gaze dropped to her lips.

"Don't flatter yourself."

His cold dismissal stung.

Looking into her eyes—eyes that held nothing but pathetic pity—his irritation flared.

"So what does matter to you? Kissing me? Touching me? Screwing me?"

His crude questions left her completely speechless, the intense heat of his grip draining the fight right out of her.

Just as she thought he was going to escalate things, he released her with a sneer.

"Why shrink away? You're so boring."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked out.

The suffocating tension evaporated, only to be replaced by a crushing ache in her chest.

Susan poked her head out of the kitchen. "Where did he go?"

"He got a call and had to leave. Must be an emergency at the hospital."

"What a shame. Go wash up for dinner, then."

Claire nodded and slipped into the bathroom to change.

Boring?

Staring into the mirror, she saw the dark red handprint blooming vividly across her slender waist.