Obsession His Runaway Bride (Noelle and Adrian) novel Chapter 141

Chapter 141: No

Chapter 141: No

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Two months had passed since Grace had told Keegan everything…er truth, her fear, her illness. She had said the words slowly that night, halting and uncertain, like someone speaking a language they’d only learned in secret. Like someone unsure they had the right to ask for more time in a world that had only ever taught them to live quietly, politely, without complaint.

There had been no grand moment. No dramatic music playing in the background. Just a soft, ordinary night, with her sitting across from him, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve, thinking of all the ways to properly say things she wanted to say.

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But that night, something shifted in her. The ache of living beside him while carrying a future she was afraid to claim, was heavier than the fear of speaking the truth aloud. Yet, she told him anyway.

Keegan hadn’t said a word while she told him. And that had been the mercy of it. He didn’t try to save her with interruptions or soften the blow with reassurances. He just listened. His silence wasn’t empty, rather it was reverent. She hadn’t realized how much she needed that.

What Grace didn’t know was that Keegan had already known everything. But he had waited for her to be ready to tell him wholeheartedly and in complete surrender.

And when it was over, when her shoulders finally sagged and her breath left her like something released after years of being caged, he still didn’t leave her side.

He looked at her like she had just become more real to him than ever before.

And she did.

That was the moment she made the request not for miracles, not for promises. Just for the chance to try. To be treated. To fight.

And so Keegan hadn’t waited a week. Not even a full day. By morning, the room in his estate he’d prepared for a while had been quietly set in motion. Subtle medical equipment hidden behind warm walls, cozy furniture, blankets she liked, books she’d dog- eared from his shelves were placed. Everything were arranged so she wouldn’t feel like a patient, even when her body began to

remind her of the truth.

He never spoke of the doctors he’d hired. He never told her how many nights he’d stayed up researching the best treatments or how hard he fought to bring the right people into their home. He simply adjusted his world to hold her.

But even Keegan, for all his power and care, couldn’t stop the inevitable.

Within two months of treatment, the signs began to show.

Her body ached more. Her energy dipped faster. Her skin turned paler, thinner. And one morning, standing in front of her mirror, she found a small bald patch where her thick, dark hair had once been.

But she didn’t cry.

Instead, she stared at the reflection for a long time.

It wasn’t vanity. It was grief. For the parts of herself she didn’t realize she’d miss. For the innocence of how she used to brush her hair absentmindedly while reading. For the version of herself at hadn’t yet known the pain of choosing to live.

The robes she once wore so easily now hung, heavier on her frame ter limbs thinned. Her cheeks hollowed slightly. Even her voice that was once so careful and composed, would sometimes tremble when she spoke too long.

But still… she rose each day.

She tried.

She fought.

She let Keegan hold her when the nausea came too strong to stand She let him sit beside her when the weight of speaking was

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Chapter 141 No

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too much to carry. She let herself be loved–not for strength, not for grace under pressure–but in her weakness, in her silence, in her quiet unraveling.

And more than anything… she lived.

Even now, in the gentlest, slowest hours…she was living.

“I’m tired…” Grace suddenly whispered.

The words left her lips barely above breath as her eyes began to flutter close. Her body started sinking deeper into the armchair by the window.

Keegan froze mid–motion while still holding the freshly folded sheet in his hands. He had been moving about the room quietly changing the linens, straightening her pillows, doing the little things that didn’t matter much to the doctors but mattered everything to him.

But at those two words, his world paused.

He turned immediately and fixed his gaze on her.

She sat curled in the chair with her legs tucked beneath her robe, and one hand limp in her lap. Her head was tilted slightly against the cushions and her pale face was peaceful. Too peaceful.

Keegan’s heart skipped, then stuttered. A familiar spike of panic lanced through him. One he had learned to tame over the past two months, but never fully escaped. Every time she said it the words ‘I’m tired‘, it sent him back to that place in his mind where he feared she might slip away from him without warning.

He crossed the room quickly kneeling in front of her. He immediately checked her breathing, waiting for the soft rise and fall of

her chest to reassure him.

It did.

But only a little.

He reached for her hand. Her fingers were warm. That was good.

Still, he hated those words.

Still, it scared him.

Every single time.

He took her hand in both of his and leaned his forehead gently against it, exhaling a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding

“Grace…” he murmured and tilted his head up to look at her.

Her gaze drifted down to meet his, and despite the fatigue cloudin her eyes, she smiled softly. Like he was the one who needed comforting.

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