Pampered by my three brothers: the return of the neglected heiress novel Chapter 1421

Chapter 1421: Felt wrong

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Haines didn’t move an inch. He sat there like a statue, even controlling his breathing as if afraid that inhaling too deeply would give Grace an excuse to squeeze herself against him again. Instead, he stared at the television with wide eyes, as if watching a horror movie rather than a romance.

"It’s ending," he muttered, carefully glancing down at her.

Much to his dismay, Grace had already fallen asleep. Had he been paying attention, he would’ve realized she’d dozed off five minutes into the movie.

Haines blinked and tapped her side lightly. "Grace."

No response.

"The movie’s over," he said. "And I’m going home."

Still nothing.

Grace remained curled up beside him, wrapped comfortably in a soft blanket, her head resting on the pillow in his lap. Haines tried shaking her gently, but she didn’t wake up.

A shallow breath slipped past him, his tensed shoulders lowering. "And now, how am I supposed to go home?"

It would be easy if he were less considerate. He could just stand up and wake her without a second thought. But that wasn’t who he was. Even with Charles, he wouldn’t wake him so abruptly.

His mouth pressed into a thin line as his gaze lingered on her sleeping profile. The slight curl at the corner of her lips suggested she was dreaming of something pleasant.

Haines raised a hand, intending to brush away the strands of hair on her cheek.

But inches before he could, he caught himself.

’What are you doing?’ he asked himself, quickly withdrawing his hand and clasping it into a fist.

Another deep sigh escaped him as he leaned back, cocking his head against the couch. "This... feels really wrong," he whispered.

This warmth. This closeness. The comfort of having another person so near.

It felt wrong.

The lack of hostility, the simple peace of the moment—it all felt foreign. And it frustrated him that he kept putting himself in situations like this.

Slowly, Haines opened his eyes and slid his gaze back to Grace. She was still fast asleep, her head resting on his lap. He couldn’t move without disturbing her.

’Why?’ he wondered. ’If you’re dying, why... me?’

Haines had already answered that question in his own mind, based on theory. Even so, the thought lingered, nagging at him as if something was missing from his conclusion. And perhaps, because of that, he kept getting frustrated.

But the most frustrating part of all... was experiencing this.

A casual night. A movie playing. The two of them simply lounging on the couch until one of them fell asleep.

It felt a little too familiar.

Something he could vaguely remember from the past. And somehow, it made him wonder—was it the setting? The mood? Or had a part of him always longed for something like this?

For this kind of warmth.

For this kind of peace.

’No,’ he told himself, bitterness creeping into his thoughts. ’She’s dying.’

He had to stop thinking so foolishly. He had already made one mistake. By meeting her every night, he was making more. He couldn’t afford to keep piling them up.

Because he knew—without a doubt—that this would never end well for either of them.

She couldn’t know that he was already aware of her condition. He’d seen a glimpse of her reaction earlier, and he knew it had only been a fraction of what she was truly feeling.

And if he let himself believe, even for a second, that this was something real...

The thought of opening his heart, only to be left alone again... No.