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

his phone screen to

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

you join me

the air, hanging

phone slipped from his grasp

her eyes wide with surprise. Nathan hastily bent down, swiftly retrieving his

the next moment, he pocketed it, his actions somewhat

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

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

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

trailed closely behind, her facade one of audacity as she spoke, “I don't even

counter, Nathan poured himself a glass of cold