The Wrong Woman

Mila settled across from him, her smile vanishing in an instant. "Am I not welcome?"

Nathan replied, "You know that's not what I mean."

Resting her chin on her hands, Mila gazed at his solemn expression, her words slow and deliberate. "I wanted to see you."

Nathan was taken aback by her words. His heart pounded inexplicably as a sudden tension gripped him.

Why did she want to see him? Was it for some specific request? Or perhaps out of longing?

Feeling a dryness in his throat, Nathan swallowed hard and took a sip of the pumpkin soup, trying to calm the turmoil in his heart.

Yet, the soup seemed sickly sweet, matching the unease swirling within him.

After finishing, Nathan carefully set the bowl down. "Chubs, if you have something on your mind, just speak up. Such ambiguous words can cause misunderstandings.”

Mila pondered for a long while, realizing that stealing was neither feasible nor sensible. So, she had to resort to asking.

for her response, Mila appeared to be in

to check if he had missed any

her heart racing like that of a startled

you join

in the air, hanging heavily between

phone slipped from his grasp and crashed to the floor,

surprise. Nathan hastily bent down, swiftly

placed it on the table, then the next moment, he pocketed it, his actions somewhat erratic. He was genuinely taken aback by her bold

his throat. His tone was somewhat sharp. "Chubs, I've already made myself clear

blazed crimson, her demeanor a blend of resignation and sorrow. "I know your concerns. You fear

his chest. He loosened his tie, unbuttoning his shirt collar before turning

“I don't even care about it myself. Why do you concern so much with

poured himself a glass of cold water and