Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me by Thedora Birnir

Chapter 106 Smile For Him

Since Denver stubbornly refused to go to the hospital, Hadley had no choice but to stop by the pharmacy, pick up some medicine, and tend to his injuries herself.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, still uneasy. “If you hurt something internally, it could be serious.”

“I’m fine,” Denver said to her with a grin–though with the bandage on the corner of his mouth, the expression looked more ridiculous than reassuring. He hesitated for a beat before adding, “I couldng beat Eric in a fight…. Does that make me useless?”

Hadley blinked, momentarily thrown off. Then–she laughed. Hard. “What kind of ridiculous logic is that?” she

teased, shaking her head. “Since when is fighting the measure of a great man?”

So… that wasn’t it?

Denver pressed his lips together, barely suppressing a chuckle. “Relax, I was just messing with you. No need to get philosophical.”

Hadley let out a soft sigh, but the weight in her chest remained. “I… I think I said too much back there without proper thinking. Denver, I…”

“I know-” Denver cut in before she could finish. “I know you don’t actually like me. And that’s okay–I never let myself believe otherwise.”

He met her gaze with quiet understanding, as if he had already made peace with the truth long before this

moment.

“But I do owe you an apology,” he continued. “I acted without your permission. That wasn’t my call to make. I hope you’re not upset.”

Upset? How could she be?

Hadley wasn’t the kind of person who accepted someone’s help only to turn around and blame them for it. That wasn’t who she was.

She shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I’m not mad. I just…”

How was she supposed to explain something she barely understood herself?

“It’s alright.” Denver caught the hesitation in her voice but didn’t push. Instead, he added softly and with rare honesty, “I won’t pretend I did it just for you. I had my own reasons, too.”

Hadley blinked, momentarily thrown by his candor.

“Denver…” Her voice softened, almost hesitant. “I told you before… we’re not right for each other.”

“I remember you said that.” He spoke with a small smile, but there was curiosity in his eyes. “What I don’t understand is–why, exactly, are we not right for each other?”

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Wasn’t it obvious?

Hadley knew the answer all too well. Her tangled past. The weight of her mistakes. A failed marriage that still cast shadows. No powerful last name to protect her…

flickering across her face. “Hadley, have you

snapped her back to

Marcus Jordan.

she had. The son of basketball legend Michael Jordan–his name alone carried

in an instant, she understood exactly why Denver had brought him up. Because Marcus had fallen for

had been a media wildfire when it surfaced–tabloids, speculation, endless chatter. Even now, people still whispered about them,

unshaken. “Look at Marcus and Larsa. They didn’t let the idea of being a ‘perfect match‘ dictate their choices. So

but the words tangled before they could

steady yet warm. “Whether two people ‘fit‘ isn’t what determines if they should be

way, and that’s fine.” His tone was calm, free of expectation or demand. “But just so you know–1 helped you tonight because I wanted

did… wouldn’t that make him no

back of his neck. He wasn’t usually one for long speeches, but this one?

to help you. Don’t push it

frustratingly clear–headed,

she had to make him

was quieter now, more measured. “This isn’t some grand, romantic story. Any effort you put

courage to fight for the girl I like, then

the

slow, knowing smirk, he raised an eyebrow. “Besides… who’s to say how this

her way to the

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Smile

medication before.

doctor had been recommended by Colleen, which meant he was already somewhat familiar with her condition. He’d always

as he saw her, he asked, “Are you out of medicine?”

“No.”

had ended with Duran rather unexpectedly, she had barely

a moment before motioning toward the

sank into the seat, her fingers curling in her lap. The thoughts that had been

I’m not faced with aggression, my reactions aren’t as

“Go on.”

“Alright.”

nodding. “From what you’re describing, it sounds like you’re making

considered therapy?

recovery.”

Therapy?

she couldn’t even begin to

be necessary,

met her gaze, unconvinced but not pushy. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to

me.”

you very much, doctor. I

down on her, and she lifted a hand to

truth was, money wasn’t the only thing stopping her. Therapy meant peeling back layers of the past- digging up wounds she had spent

refused to open. Not now. Not ever.