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.

response, Mila appeared to be in

screen to check if he had missed

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

you join

the air, hanging heavily between

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

with surprise. Nathan hastily bent down, swiftly retrieving

it on the table, then the next moment, he pocketed it, his

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

know your concerns. You fear that I will get married after my return to Sunterland, and you wish

spreading through his chest. He loosened his tie, unbuttoning his shirt collar before turning away from Mila. He then strode purposefully toward the

don't even care about it myself.

poured himself a glass of cold water