Love Rents A Room
Chapter 138: An Insane Accusation

Chapter 138: An Insane Accusation

Jeffrey’s smile vanished along with hers.

"Wait..." she narrowed her eyes. "Are you lying again?"

Jeffrey relaxed. He shook his head with a smile. "No... I’m really your boyfriend."

Joanne pursed her lips, her cheeks puffing up in the most adorable way. "Prove it."

How adorable!

Jeffrey leaned forward and, before he could stop himself, pressed a soft peck on her lips.

She froze.

Then suddenly...

"AH!" Joanne gasped dramatically, her fingers flying to her lips. "This handsome guy just kissed me...!"

Jeffrey’s breath hitched only for a second until she started giggling.

"He kissed me..." she repeated, her blush getting deeper.

Jeffrey wanted to kiss her again. She was fine and talking that was a great relief.

Then she started to stare at him...

With hearts in her eyes.

His heart pounded. No one had ever looked at him like that before. His heart skipped a beat.

Beside them, Berta outright cackled.

But Joanne didn’t even seem to hear her. She was still gazing at him, completely enchanted.

Jeffrey was not complaining and looked into those adorable pools of emerald that were her eyes. The adoration in her eyes was magnetic. He wanted to get the world and place it at her feet just because she looked at him like that.

"Jeffrey..." she murmured, her voice softer now. Sweeter.

His breath caught.

She was still smiling, but something about it felt... different.

Her gaze wasn’t just dreamy. It was something... more.

"Jeffrey Winchester..."

Jeffrey’s entire body stilled.

His name.

She said his name.

His chest tightened, emotions swirling. "Jo...?"

Joanne’s fingers squeezed his hand.

"You... came back for me..." she whispered.

Her sleepy grin widened, the corners of her eyes glistening.

"My Jeffrey..."

And just like that, her eyes fluttered closed again, her breathing evening out.

Jeffrey sat frozen, staring at their entwined hands.

She remembered. Even in this drugged-up haze, in this in-between place of consciousness and dreams...

She still knew him.

A tightness built in his throat, his eyes stinging.

My Jeffrey...

Slowly, he brought their joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her fingers.

Berta watched silently now, a knowing smile on her face.

Jeffrey swallowed past the lump in his throat and whispered, "Always, Jo. Always yours."

Jeffrey stayed by Joanne’s side for a long while, watching the slow rise and fall of her breathing.

No one could express love quite like she just did. Even in her drowsy, half-conscious state, she made him feel it—completely, overwhelmingly.

She was so in love with him.

And she wanted seven kids.

His lips curved into a soft, amused smile.

Seven.

The thought should have terrified him, but instead, his heart pounded with excitement. Seven kids, a farmhouse filled with laughter, Joanne by his side... He could see it. And he wanted it.

Nurse Berta’s gentle hand patted his shoulder, bringing him back to reality. "You should get changed before she wakes up again, sweetheart."

Jeffrey exhaled, rubbing his face. He must look like a mess.

"You’ve got about two hours," Berta added with a knowing smile. "Go get cleaned up."

He hesitated but eventually nodded. "Please, take good care of her while I’m gone."

"I sure will."

With one last glance at Joanne, Jeffrey hurried out of the hospital.

When he arrived back at the farmhouse, Fluffy was waiting at the door, his tiny tail wagging in confusion.

"Hey, buddy," Jeffrey murmured, petting the little dog. Fluffy had clearly been wondering where everyone went. He whined and complained as if asking him where they all went forgetting him.

After making sure the pup was fed and settled, Jeffrey headed straight for his room. He didn’t linger—he wanted to get back to Joanne as soon as possible.

After a quick shower, he grabbed a fresh shirt, then turned to pack some of her clothes, when something caught his eye.

The camera.

He froze.

It sat there, innocuous yet undeniably familiar.

Jeffrey reached for it slowly, a strange pull drawing him in.

He used to own a camera just like this.

But that wasn’t what made his pulse quicken.

It was Joanne’s reaction.

The first time he picked up this camera, she had panicked. As if she was afraid. As if it meant something—something big.

And then there was the girl in his memories.

The young Joanne.

She had a camera just like this.

Jeffrey’s fingers tightened around the device.

Could this be... my camera?

He inspected it carefully. He had loved his old camera, protected it like a treasure, never letting it get a single scratch. He never put stickers or markings on it either—he liked it pristine.

But there was no way to be sure... Unless he asked her.

His heart pounded.

Shaking off the unsettling feeling creeping into his chest, Jeffrey set the camera down and continued packing.

Still, a nagging thought refused to leave him.

What am I forgetting?

Something about this didn’t sit right.

Shoving the feeling aside, he grabbed Joanne’s clothes and headed back to the hospital, hoping he would get there before she woke up.

-----

Liam stepped into the police station, the air thick with tension.

Tom Sullivan had surrendered.

The cops weren’t letting anyone near him, but Liam? He was family. They let him through.

The first thing he saw was Bernice.

She was causing a storm, hurling curses at anyone who so much as looked in her direction. The officers, the reporters lingering outside, the captain—but mostly, her husband.

Liam had heard about narcissists. For the first time, he was seeing one up close.

The moment she spotted him, she charged.

"Are you happy now?!" she shrieked. "Your brother is behind bars! Are you satisfied?!"

Liam didn’t even look at her. He strode straight to the captain. "What did he say?"

But Bernice wasn’t done.

"What am I supposed to tell people?" she wailed. "This will be all over the morning papers! Everyone’s going to ask me! I did nothing—nothing! Why should I be punished for what he did?!"

Liam’s jaw clenched, but he kept his focus on the captain.

Then, Bernice said something that made him stop.

Dead in his tracks.

"Don’t you know? It was Joanne! She was coming on to him for months! Harassing him! Threatening our business, our kids! He couldn’t bear it anymore—he had to put an end to it!"

Liam turned slowly.

His glare was cold. Sharp. Deadly.

"Come again?"

His voice was quiet, but the weight of it sent a ripple through the room.

Joanne? Coming on to Tom?

What kind of bullshit was that?

Liam stared at Bernice, searching for even a flicker of doubt in her expression.

But there was none.

Did she even believe the filth she was spewing? Or was she just that desperate?