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.

waited for her response, Mila

glanced at his phone screen to check if he had missed

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

join me in

the

thud, Nathan's phone slipped from his grasp and

over, her eyes wide with surprise. Nathan

the table, then the next moment, he pocketed it, his actions somewhat erratic. He was

his chair, his mouth dry as he cleared his throat. His tone was somewhat sharp. "Chubs,

fear that I

that,” Nathan responded, a heat spreading through his chest. He loosened his tie, unbuttoning his shirt collar

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

a glass of cold water