Chapter 177

Harrison sat there, expressionless, his face betraying nothing-no anger, no warmth. He faced her directly, a book resting idly in his hands, as if he’d been waiting for her all along.
“Uh-Honey!”
Anastasia stammered, snapping to attention, her hands tucked nervously behind her back. Guilt was written all over her.
His gaze was dark and unyielding, heavy as a mountain pressing down on her shoulders. He spoke just one word: “Come here.”
It was such a simple command, delivered in the calmest of tones, yet there was no mistaking the authority behind it.
“I just ran into something on the way, got a little sidetracked-didn’t mean to be late Anastasia tried to explain, her voice faltering as she edged closer to him, step by reluctant step.
She snuck a glance at his face, and seeing his expression wasn’t as cold as she feared, a thin sliver of relief slipped into her chest.
But before she could take another breath, a strong hand closed around her wrist.
The next instant-“Ah!” she yelped as he pulled her off balance, sending her tumbling straight into his arms.
“Sidetracked?” His voice was icily calm from above. “Ana, have you already forgotten what I told you?”
She blinked, startled. “What… did you say?”
“So you really did forget.” His tone dropped, low and dangerous. He tipped her chin up, a little too forcefully.
The grip hurt. Anastasia winced, wanting to protest, but the words died on her lips when she met his cold, stormy eyes.
A wave of danger washed over her, freezing her in place.
“Sweetheart she whispered.
“Ana,” he said, voice soft but razor-sharp, “I told you before-whatever you promise me, you need to remember. Because I take it seriously.” His eyes narrowed, dark with warning. “Breaking your word has consequences. Do you remember that?”
She was too scared to move. “I
She tried to defend herself, but as she looked up, she caught a flicker of something behind his frosty exterior-a flash of loneliness.
She froze. In that moment, she saw the Harrison from another lifetime: a man unloved and alone, who had given her everything, yet she’d only had eyes for Aaron. No matter how much Harrison gave, she’d never once looked back at him…
A deep pang of guilt twisted inside her. It stunned her how much her being late- just a dinner, just a couple of hours-could matter to him.
But then, really, what had she ever given him? Why would he ever feel secure?
Her earlier hope of patching things up with a cute apology vanished. She realized,
to her, those two hours were nothing, but to him—those hours waiting, not knowing if she’d show what else could he feel but hurt?
“Honey, I’m so sorry!” She suddenly wrapped her arms around Harrison, her voice cracked with remorse and regret.
He stiffened, caught off guard.
“It’s my fault,” she choked out. “I shouldn’t have been out so late. I should have called. I shouldn’t have made you wait
“It’s all on me. Punish me if you want, but just-don’t be like this.” She traced his cool brow with trembling fingers, her voice muffled. “I can’t stand to see you hurt.”
…Hurt?
The word almost sounded ridiculous to Harrison-until he looked down and saw her eyes, wide and glistening, brimming with real guilt and something even deeper: care.
Her eyes were tinged red with unshed tears, and in them, he saw nothing but sincerity and… pain for him.
His hand tightened involuntarily. Somewhere inside, a corner of his heart-long frozen over—simply, silently, caved in.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart Anastasia whispered again. “I’ll make you something to eat right now!” Orıginal content can be found at.net
She slipped from his arms and darted into the kitchen.
Harrison remained where he was, the book still in his lap, unmoving for a long time.
In the kitchen, Anastasia rubbed at her eyes, scolding herself under her breath.