Resent, Reject, Regret

Resent Reject, Regret By Aqua Summers Chapter 102

Chapter 102 Mr. Brighthall Doesn’t Want to See You

“Brendan? Brendan!”

Colors were drained off Deirdre’s face. She pounced at him, throwing her arms around his thigh the exact moment she understood what he meant. He was going to blame it on Sterling again!

“I-If you’re mad because Lena almost died, I… I can apologize for that! I will swallow those pills so I can suffer the same pain she’s undergoing right now! But please, stop taking your rage out on innocent people!”

“Innocent people?” Brendan scoffed. He lowered himself to her height and grabbed her by her jaw, examining her tears-stricken cheeks. “Here I thought you didn’t believe in concepts like leaving the innocent alone. Isn’t Lena innocent? Christ, Deirdre. You could have come clean with me. Things would have ended much sooner … much better. But you had to accuse her of doing something she didn’t do! You just had to lie to me!”

He rose apathetically and kicked her away. Deirdre’s head knocked on the side of the bed. She felt a buzzing shockwave coursing through her brain like a hive of disturbed bees. Still, with her one hand cupping the side of her head, she crawled after Brendan frantically.

“I didn’t do any of that! I didn’t lie!”

“You didn’t?” He stopped in his tracks so he could turn around and shoot Deirdre a disgusted glare. “Your accomplice confessed to your scheme out of guilt, McKinnon. But you’re surprisingly cold- hearted, aren’t you? You hardly seemed fazed! Or are you still trying to pretend you’re innocent?”

Accomplice? Who was that supposed to be?

Deirdre’s mind blanked. She stayed on the cold, hard tile floor, yet the chill did nothing for her frazzled mind. Brendan kept insisting that she lied to him, but about what? What was the lie supposed to be?

Sam pushed open the door and found her lying on the floor, her hand bleeding. He was instantly alarmed. “Miss McKinnon!” he said, hurrying toward her and helping.

He did not expect Brendan to be so violent.

Deirdre sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes transfixed on the floor unseeingly. Sam was about to summon the nurse when she pulled him by his hand. “Sam, can you tell me what exactly happened?”

He sighed and obliged. He spared no details, including the janitor’s statement.

Deirdre felt a pang in her chest. Her head was spinning. “That’s nonsense! It’s a load of crap!” she protested raspily. “I don’t even know who that janitor is! This… This is Charlene’s work. She came up with this plot to frame me!”

Sam was certain that Deirdre was innocent as well. The young woman’s character was not the only argument he had, too-Charlene was the biggest pretender he had RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

ever seen.

“I know, but Mr. Brighthall believed her. The janitor also paid you a visit in the morning that day. That was before I arrived.”

Deirdre felt a chill crawling up her spine. Had Charlene planned all of this the moment she stepped out of her ward? More importantly, Deirdre’s biggest issue right now was how much Brendan trusted Charlene. He wanted to believe she was the kind, nice girl he thought she was. He wanted to believe this so much that he would proclaim Deirdre guilty even without hard evidence.

“Sam, you have to tell him to see me again. I have to explain this to him.”

“Uh, about that,” Sam muttered hesitantly. “I don’t think now is a good time, Miss McKinnon. The odds are, well… Overwhelmingly against you. I suggest waiting until Charlene’s up and Mr. Brighthall’s rage has passed.”

Deirdre felt a lump forming in her throat. The luxury of patience was not something Sterling shared with her. She had to act now before Brendan felt the whim to

torment the poor man again.

“P-Please?” she whispered.

Sam sighed. “Fine.”

He went out of the room. A few moments later, he was back. “I’m afraid Mr. Brighthall, uh… Doesn’t wanna see you, Miss McKinnon.”

Brendan’s original reply was a hundred times harsher than Sam made it out to be. The kind-hearted man simply could not bear to repeat it verbatim.

Deirdre was stunned. Then, curling her wounded finger into a fist, she cast her eyes down and smiled mirthlessly to herself.