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.

Nathan waited for her response,

his phone screen to check

Mila nervously dug her nails into her palm, her heart racing like that of a startled deer. Before she could

you join me in

in the air, hanging heavily between

loud thud, Nathan's phone slipped from his grasp and crashed to the

eyes wide with surprise. Nathan hastily bent down,

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

throat. His tone was somewhat sharp.

sorrow. "I know your concerns. You fear that I will get married after my

his tie, unbuttoning his shirt collar before turning away from Mila. He then strode

behind, her facade one of audacity as she spoke, “I don't even care about it myself. Why do you concern so much with

poured himself a glass of cold water and downed