Chapter 943
[ 473 words ]
Chapter 943:
I could tell she wasn’t comfortable with how intense it was, and the realization made my heart ache badly enough that I wanted to stop. “Lianne, if you’re hurting, we can—”
“Don’t stop.” Her eyes were already red, and although her voice trembled, her resolve never wavered. “Ethan, I don’t want you to stop.”
I couldn’t stand seeing tears in her eyes. Overcome by emotion, I leaned down and kissed them away.
Before I could say anything else, she lifted her face and kissed me, silencing whatever words I had been about to speak.
I’d already been struggling to keep my feelings and possessiveness under control. After that, my restraint completely gave way, and the rest unfolded beyond either of our control. Later, she nestled against me, her voice heavy with sleep yet unmistakably happy.
“Ethan, we’re together again.”
𝗧𝘩𝗼𝘂ѕ𝘢𝗻𝗱𝗌 of 𝗿𝖾𝖺𝘥еr𝘀 𝗼ո 𝘨𝘢𝘭n𝗈vе𝗅𝘴.𝘤𝗼𝗆
“Yeah,” I answered softly.
She raised her head and studied me. “Why don’t you look happy?”
“I am happy,” I assured her. “I’m just afraid…”
“Afraid of what?”
“I’m afraid I’ll wake up tomorrow and discover that none of this actually happened.”
She was quiet for several seconds. Then she wrapped both arms around my waist and pressed her face against my chest. “Then don’t sleep. Stay awake and watch me. That way, you’ll know I’m real.”
I looked down at her but didn’t respond.
Not long afterward, she fell into a deep sleep. Her breathing gradually became slow and even, while her eyelashes cast faint shadows across her face beneath the dim light. I gently rubbed her back, feeling the warmth of her body against mine and listening to her peaceful breathing. Yet the heaviness in my chest refused to disappear.
I didn’t dare close my eyes.
I was terrified that if I fell asleep, I’d wake up the next morning and discover that everything had been nothing more than another cruel hallucination.
So I held her even more tightly.
Lianne’s POV:
The soft shuffle of footsteps stirred me awake the next morning.
Still groggy with sleep, I slowly opened my eyes. The memories of the night before immediately came rushing back, the warmth of Ethan’s hands, the controlled rhythm of his breathing, and the way he’d held me tightly while murmuring, “I’m afraid you’re not real.”
Heat crept into my cheeks. I instinctively turned toward the other side of the bed, only to find that Ethan was already gone. Yet the pillows and sheets still held his warmth, along with the familiar scent that belonged unmistakably to him. A profound sense of calm settled over me.
I lingered for a moment, savoring his lingering scent, then buried my face in the pillow and stayed there a little longer before finally forcing myself out of bed.
When I stepped into the hallway, I heard movement coming from the kitchen. Ethan was there, quietly moving about as he prepared breakfast, while the warm, comforting aroma of food gradually filled the space.
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