“Vivian’s having dinner at my place tonight. Is there anything you’d like to eat? I can bring something back for you,” Eleanor called over to him.
Xavier smiled. “I’m easy, but the doctor did suggest I stick to lighter meals for now.”
“There’s a great little place near the hospital. I’ll pick something up for you,” Eleanor replied.
“Sounds good.” There was a flicker of anticipation in Xavier’s eyes.
After Eleanor left, his assistant came over. “Mr. Vaughn, would you like me to bring you something for dinner?”
“No need. You can head home for the night,” Xavier said.
The assistant understood immediately—when Eleanor was around, he was just in the way, the third wheel.
“Alright, call me if you need anything.” With a smile, the assistant left.
Xavier hadn’t told his mother about the accident—not wanting to worry her. Just then, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen: Henry Holt. He picked up. “Hey, Henry.”
“Let’s grab dinner together,” Henry said, sounding a little down.
“I’m afraid I can’t. I’m at the hospital.”
“What happened? Are you alright?” Henry’s voice shot through with concern.
“I got clipped by a car. Broke my left arm, so I’m staying here for now.”
“What? Which hospital? I’m coming over right now.” Henry was clearly rattled.
Xavier gave him the address. Fifteen minutes later, Eleanor returned with takeout—some food and a steaming thermos of nourishing soup.
The soup was piping hot, fresh from the kitchen. You couldn’t even take a sip without blowing on it first.
With his left arm in a cast and his other hand bandaged and bruised, Xavier was clearly having trouble managing on his own. He didn’t say a word, just looked at Eleanor with quiet hope.
“Let me cool this down for you,” Eleanor said, stirring the soup to help it lose some heat.
“Xavier’s hurt? Is it serious?”
“I haven’t gone in yet. He’s got company.”
“Who?”
“Eleanor. She’s feeding him soup, actually.”
“No way! Take a picture for me.”
“You don’t believe me? Fine, I’ll send you one in a bit.”
“Right now,” Vanessa insisted before hanging up.
With no choice, Henry took out his phone, snapped a photo through the glass of Eleanor feeding Xavier, and sent it to Vanessa. “See?”
“Got it,” Vanessa replied.

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