Unwanted luck

week-her first full one working at Reynolds Enterprises-and it had left her mentally and physically drained. Despite the luxury and comfort of her new surroundings, she felt a gnawing sense of d

like an eternity, she heard footsteps-heavy and purposeful, approaching from the upper floor. A shadow fell over her as Christopher's tall frame loomed at the top of the staircase. His expression was unreadable, his cold eyes surveying the scene before him. "Jillian," he said, his voice calm but distant. "What happened?" "I-I fell," she managed to gasp, her voice shaky from the pain that radiated through her body. She tried to move her arm again, but the pain was too much, and she let out another involuntary whimper. Christopher's face tightened slightly as he descended the stairs, his movements measured and controlled. For a moment, she wondered if he would just step over her, retreat back into the icy shell he had built around himself since the wedding. But when he reached her, he crouched down beside her, his hand brushing against her cheek, surprisingly gentle. "You're hurt," he observed, stating the obvious in that detached way of his. "You need to see a doctor." Jillian let out a shaky breath, trying to bite back the tears of frustration and pain. "I think I broke my arm," she whispered, the words barely audible. Christopher studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowing as if he were weighing his options. And then, without another word, he slipped one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back, lifting her in one smooth motion. Jillian gasped, more from the surprise of the gesture than the pain, but the movement sent another jolt through her injured arm. "I'll take you to the hospital," he said, his voice clipped but steady. His grip on her was firm, almost protective, though his expression remained as cool and composed as ever. Jillian didn't protest. She couldn't. The pain was too much, and despite the confusing emotions swirling inside her, she had no choice but to lean against him, resting her head against his chest as he carried her out of the house. --- Hours later, Jillian sat in the passenger seat of the car, her left arm immobilized in a thick cast. The doctor had confirmed her worst fear-a clean break in her radius, just below the elbow. She had endured the X-rays, the poking and prodding, and the excruciating pain of having her arm set in the cast, all while Christopher had stood by, his expression unreadable. He had been present, but distant, offering no words of comfort, no reassurance. Yet, there was something different about him. His usual cold indifference seemed to have thawed, if only slightly. He had stayed by her side through the entire ordeal, his presence both comforting and frustrating at the same time. The man who had married her out of necessity, who barely looked at her most days, had stepped up when she needed him most. But the emotional distance between them remained a chasm she didn't know how to cross. The drive back to the house was silent, the hum of the engine the only sound in the air. Jillian stared out the window, watching the gray clouds roll across the sky, her mind a swirl of conflicting emotions. The pain medication had dulled the sharp edge of the ache in her arm, but it couldn't numb the tension between her and Christopher. When they arrived home, Christopher parked the car in the driveway and came around to her side, op