Chapter 43

On the way back, Brinley and Austin sat in silence in the car, neither of them attempting to start a conversation.

When they reached Hillcrest Villa, dinner was already set out in the kitchen. It was a collection of light and homely dishes.

Because Austin had ongoing stomach troubles, his doctor had recommended a bland diet.

Brinley had gotten used to following this routine with him, and tonight she quietly focused on finishing her meal.

The silence became unbearable after dinner. Brinley,seeking escape, grabbed her yoga mat and slipped away to the home gym.

She rolled it out and eased into a flawless downward-facing dog pose just as Austin walked in, wearing a grey tracksuit.

The loose outfit gave him ease of movement, and his half-open collar faintly revealed thesharp line of his collarbone.

"Your posture isn't right," he said as he stood near her, looking down. "Lift your hips a little more, and don't lock your knees."

"I've been practicing this for six months. It's already perfect," Brinley shot back defiantly as she deliberately straightened her legs even more.

Then, without a word, Austin bent down and placed his hand gently on her waist.

The warmth of his fingertips seeped through the thin fabric of her outfit, making Brinley stiffen as her breath hitched.

"Like this, raise up," he said.

His touch made Brinley's arms weaken, and she nearly toppled onto the mat. "What are you doing?" she shouted, straightening quickly, her voice brimming with irritation.

"Correcting your posture," Austin replied, pulling his hand back. His voice was serious, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. "What's wrong? Are you uncomfortable with me helping you?"

"I'm not," Brinley said stubbornly, rolling up her mat before walking toward the stairs.

A soft laugh sounded behind her, brushing against her heart like a feather and leaving an unexplainable rush behind.

With her will to keep exercising gone, Brinley headed straight to her bedroom.

Soon after, the gym lights went out, and the glow from the study replaced them.

It was clear Austin had gone to work.

Later, even that light dimmed into darkness.

Unable to sleep, Brinley tossed and turned before finally getting up for a glass of ice water.

She left the main lights off, moving carefully by the pale light of the moon spilling through the window.

She had just opened the fridge when she heard footsteps approaching.

Startled, she turned, only to see Austin in his pajamas.

His figure blurred in the dimness, yet the tall, distinct outline of his frame was impossible to mistake.

"Still awake?" he asked, his deep voice roughened from long hours of work but carrying an oddly compelling texture.

Brinley's heart jolted suddenly. She didn't answer,only reached for the bottle of water.

Noticing her unease, Austin let out a soft laugh. "Did I upset you earlier, in the elevator?"

"No," Brinley muttered, her voice faint, almost inaudible. "So... you were shy?" Austin teased lightly.

Brinley was stunned to silence for a moment,realizing he always had a way of pressing exactly the right buttons to unsettle her.

She avoided his eyes and turned toward the staircase. "I'm tired. I'm going to sleep."

Austin's laughter trailed after Brinley, and just as she reached the turn of the staircase, he called out,"Goodnight."

His voice was soft, but it seemed to echo right inside Brinley's ears.

For a moment, she hesitated, then quickly continued upward without turning back, retreating into her room.

That night, she turned under the covers again and again before at last slipping into a deep, heavy sleep.

Over the next few days, Brinley carefully kept her distance. She avoided staying too long in the same space as Austin. Yet he carried on as if nothing had changed, casually calling her to meals and discussing things when necessary.

Gradually, the tension she felt began to ease in this routine, giving her a sense of calm.

Late one night, around eleven, light still spilled from the study.

Brinley paused at the doorway, a cup of warm milk in her hand, while the steady clatter of Austin's keyboard told her he was stillburied in work.

She took a slow breath and gently pushed the half-open door wider.

The air inside the room held the faint blend of ink and coffee.

Austin sat in a dark grey set of loungewear,his collar loose with two buttons undone, the soft glow of the desk lamp bathing his face, softening its characteristic sharpness.

A pile of thick documents sat in front of him, and he was so absorbed in them that he didn't even notice her come in.

Brinley stepped closer and placed the milk on the desk. "Still busy?" she asked softly.

Only then did he look up at her. His eyes looked tired,but the instant he saw her, they softened at once."Almost finished. Why aren't you asleep yet?"

"I tried. I couldn't," she said, pulling a chair closer to sit beside him. "So I brought you some milk."

Closing his laptop, Austin leaned back in his chair. He took a slow sip, letting the warmth slide down his throat and ease some of his exhaustion.

As he lowered the cup, his elbow brushed the desk drawer, and a click followed.

The impact caused the half-open drawer to slide out fully, exposing the carefully arranged contents inside.

Brinley's eyes landed there instinctively, and she gasped at what she saw. Inside the drawer wasn't paperwork or personal

items, but a neatly arranged collection of detailed racing models. Each one gleamed,clearly treated with care.

They were all 1:18 scale replicas, crafted with intricate detail and obviously kept as prized collectibles.

In the center sat the most striking of them all-a bright red car marked boldly with the word "Rosara."

On its plate, a small engraving read,20Sriarrough Grand Prix Champion Car."

That had been Brinley's final championship before she retired, the race that became the highlight of her career.

In the world of racing, she had been known as "Rosara."